The Sun of Quebec: A Story of a Great Crisis, Joseph A. Altsheler [good novels to read TXT] 📗

"Oh, we'll meet later," said the captain exultantly. "Don't deceive yourself about that. There is a swift wind behind us and the speed of both ships is increasing."

Robert looked over the side. The sea was running in white caps and above his head the wind was whistling. The schooner rolled and his footing grew unsteady, but it was only a fine breeze to the sailors, just what they loved. Suddenly the captain burst into a great laugh.

"The fools! the fools!" he exclaimed. "As I live, they're pleasuring here in the most dangerous seas in the world! Music in the moonlight!"

"What do you mean?" asked Robert, astonished.

"Just what I say! A madness hath o'ercome 'em! Take a look through the glasses, Peter, and see a noble sight, but a strange one at such a time."

He clapped the glasses to Robert's eyes. The other ship, suddenly came near to them, and grew fourfold in size. Every detail of her stood out sharp and vivid in the moonlight, a stout craft with all sails set to catch the good wind, a fine merchantman by every token, nearing the end of a profitable voyage. Discipline was not to say somewhat relaxed, but at least kindly, the visible evidence of it an old sailor sitting with his back against the mast playing vigorously upon a violin, while a dozen other men stood around listening.

"Look at 'em, Peter. Look at 'em," laughed the captain. "It's a most noble sight! Watch the old fellow playing the fiddle, and I'll lay my eyes that in a half minute or so you'll have some of the sailormen dancing."

Robert shuddered again. The glee in the slaver's voice[Pg 96] was wicked. The cynical jesting tone was gone and in its place was only unholy malice. But Robert was held by the scene upon the deck of the stranger.

"Yes, two of the sailors have begun to dance," he said. "They're young men and clasping each other about the shoulders, they're doing a hornpipe. I can see the others clapping their hands and the old fellow plays harder than ever."

"Ah, idyllic! Most idyllic, I vow!" exclaimed the captain. "Who would have thought, Peter, to have beheld such a sight in these seas! 'Tis a childhood dream come back again! 'Tis like the lads and maids sporting on the village green! Ah, the lambs! the innocents! There is no war for them. It does my soul good, Peter, to behold once more such innocent trust in human nature."

The shudder, more violent than ever, swept over Robert again. He felt that he was in the presence of something unclean, something that exhaled the foul odor of the pit. The man had become wholly evil, and he shrank away.

"Steady, Peter," said the slaver. "Why shouldn't you rejoice with the happy lads on yon ship? Think of your pleasant fortune to witness such a play in the West Indian seas, the merry sailormen dancing to the music in the moonlight, the ship sailing on without care, and we in our schooner bearing down on 'em to secure our rightful share in the festival. Ah, Peter, we must go on board, you and I and Carlos and more stout fellows and sing and dance with 'em!"

Robert drew back again. It may have been partly the effect of the moonlight, and partly the mirror of his own mind through which he looked, but the captain's face had become wholly that of a demon. The close-set eyes seemed to draw closer together than[Pg 97] ever, and they were flashing. His hand, sinewy and strong, settled upon the butt of a pistol in his belt, but, in a moment, he raised it again and took the glasses from Robert. After a long look he exclaimed:

"They dream on! They fiddle and dance with their whole souls, Peter, my lad, and such trusting natures shall be rewarded!"

Robert could see very well now without the aid of the glasses. The sailor who sat on a coil of rope with his back against a mast, playing the violin, was an old man, his head bare, his long white hair flying. It was yet too far away for his face to be disclosed, but Robert knew that his expression must be rapt, because his attitude showed that his soul was in his music. The two young sailors, with their arms about the shoulders of each other, were still dancing, and two more had joined them.

The crowd of spectators had thickened. Evidently it was a ship with a numerous crew, perhaps a rich merchantman out of Bristol or Boston. No flag was flying over her. That, however, was not unusual in those seas, and in times of war when a man waited to see the colors of his neighbor before showing his own. But Robert was surprised at the laxity of discipline on the stranger. They should be up and watching, inquiring into the nature of the schooner that was drawing so near.

"And now, Peter," said the captain, more exultant than ever, "you shall see an unveiling! It is not often given to a lad like you, a landsman, to behold such a dramatic act at sea, a scene so powerful and complete that it might have been devised by one of the great Elizabethans! Ho, Carlos, make ready!"

He gave swift commands and the mate repeated them as swiftly to the men. The two ships were rapidly drawing nearer, but to Robert's amazement the festival upon[Pg 98] the deck of the stranger did not cease. Above the creaking of the spars the wailing strains of the violin came to him across the waters. If they were conscious there of the presence of the schooner they cared little about it. For the moment it occurred to Robert that it must be the Flying Dutchman, or some other old phantom ship out of the dim and legendary past.

"And now, Carlos!" exclaimed the captain in a full, triumphant voice, "we'll wake 'em up! Break out the flag and show 'em what we are!"

A coiled piece of cloth, dark and menacing, ran up the mainmast of the schooner, reached the top, and then burst out, streaming at full length in the strong wind, dark as death and heavy with threat. Robert looked up and shuddered violently. Over the schooner floated the black flag, exultant and merciless.

The tarpaulin was lifted and the long bronze gun in the stern was uncovered. Beside her stood the gunners, ready for action. The boatswain's whistle blew and the dark crew stood forth, armed to the teeth, eager for action, and spoil. Carlos, a heavy cutlass in hand, awaited his master's orders. The captain laughed aloud.

"So you see, Peter, what we are!" he exclaimed. "And it's not too late for you to seize a cutlass and have your share. Now, my lads, we'll board her and take her in the good old way."

The mate shouted to the steersman, and the schooner yawed. Robert, filled with horror, scarcely knew what he was doing; in truth, he had no conscious will to do anything, and so he ended by doing nothing. But he heard the fierce low words of the pirates, and he saw them leaning forward, as if making ready to leap on the deck of the stranger and cut down every one of her crew.[Pg 99]

Then he looked at the other ship. The old man who had been playing the violin suddenly dropped it and snatched up a musket from behind the coil of rope on which he had been sitting. The dancers ceased to dance, sprang away, and returned in an instant with muskets also. Heavy pistols leaped from the shirts and blouses of the spectators, and up from the inside of the ship poured a swarm of men armed to the teeth. A piece of cloth swiftly climbed the mainmast of the stranger also, reached the top, broke out there triumphantly, and the flag of England, over against the black flag, blew out steady and true in the strong breeze.

"God! A sloop of war!" exclaimed the captain. "About, Carlos! Put her about!"

But the sloop yawed quickly, her portholes opened, bronze muzzles appeared, tampions fell away, and a tremendous voice shouted:

"Fire!"

Robert saw a sheet of flame spring from the side of the sloop, there was a terrific crash, a dizzying column of smoke and the schooner seemed fairly to leap from the water, as the broadside swept her decks and tore her timbers. The surly mate was cut squarely in two by a round shot, men screaming in rage and pain went down and the captain staggered, but recovered himself. Then he shouted to the steersman to put the schooner about and rushing among the sailors he ordered them to another task than that of boarding.

"It was a trick, and it trapped us most damnably!" he cried. "A fool I was! Fools we must all have been to have been caught by it! They lured us on! But now, you rascals, to your work, and it's for your lives! We escape together or we hang together!"

The night had darkened much, clouds trailing before[Pg 100] the moon and stars, but Robert clearly saw the slaver's face. It was transformed by chagrin and wrath, though it expressed fierce energy, too. Blood was running from his shoulder down his left arm, but drawing his sword he fairly herded the men to the sails; that is, to those that were left. The helmsman put the shattered schooner about and she drove rapidly on a new course. But the sloop of war, tacking, let go her other broadside.

Robert anticipated the second discharge, and by impulse rather than reason threw himself flat upon the deck, where he heard the heavy shot whistling over his head and the cries of those who were struck down. Spars and rigging, too, came clattering to the deck, but the masts stood and the schooner, though hit hard, still made way.

"Steady! Keep her steady, my boys!" shouted the captain. "We've still a clean pair of heels, and with a little luck we'll lose the sloop in the darkness!"

He was a superb seaman and the rising wind helped him. The wounded schooner had gained so much that the third broadside did but little damage and killed only one man. Robert stood up again and looked back at the pursuing vessel, her decks covered with men in uniform, the gunners loading rapidly while over the sloop the flag of England that was then the flag of his own country too, streamed straight out in the wind, proud and defiant.

He felt a throb of intense, overwhelming pride. The black flag had been overmatched by the good flag. In the last resort, those who lived right had proved themselves more than equal to those who lived wrong. Law and order were superior to piracy and chaos. Forgetful of his own safety, he hoped that the sloop would overtake the schooner, and obeying his impulse he uttered a shout of triumph. The captain turned upon him fiercely.

"You cheer the wrong ship," he said. "If they over[Pg 101]take us, you being with us, I'll swear that you were one of the hardiest men in my crew!"

Robert laughed, he could not help it, though the act was more or less hysterical, and replied:

"I'll chance it! But, Captain, didn't you have the surprise of your whole life, and you so cunning, too!"

The man raised his cutlass, but dropped it quickly.

"Don't try me that way again," he said. "It was my impulse to cut you down, and the next time I'd do it. But you're right. It was a surprise, though we'll escape 'em yet, and we'll let 'em know we're not just a hunted rabbit, either!"

The Long Tom in the stern of the schooner opened fire. The first shot splashed to the right of the sloop, and the second to the left, but the third struck on board, and two men were seen to go down. The captain laughed.

"That's a taste of their own medicine," he said.

A big gun on the sloop thundered, and a round shot cut away one of the schooner's spars. Another flashed and a load of grape hissed over the decks. Two men were killed and three more wounded. The captain shouted in anger and made the others crack on all the sail they could. She was a staunch schooner, and though hurt grievously she still made speed. Swifter than the sloop, despite her injuries, she gradually widened the gap between them, while the wind rose fast, and the trailing blackness spread over the sea.

Although still close at hand, the outline of the pursuing sloop became dim. Robert was no longer able to trace the human figures on her deck, but the banner of law and right flying from her topmast yet showed in the dusk. Forgetful as before of his own danger, he began to have a fear that the pirate would escape. Under his breath he entreated the avenging sloop to come