The White Wolf and Other Fireside Tales Part 10

"But, Mr. Rogers, sir, either that there s.h.i.+p is a Dutchman or else I be."

"Look at her flag, you old fool."

"Never see'd the like of it."

"That's the flag of the Princ.i.p.ality of Nibby-Gibby. Ever heard of it?"

"Can't say I have."

"No more did I till the day before yesterday, and I won't swear I've got it right yet. But 'tis somewhere up the Baltic I understand.

That there s.h.i.+p--her name, by the way, is the _Burgomeister Van der Werf_--is bound up Channel with sugar from Jamaica--with a licence.

Maybe you folks up to Polperro don't know what that means?"

"I only know that, if I'd ran across her in the old _Pride_, I'd have clapped a crew on board and run her into a British port and no questions asked."

Says Mr. Rogers, "If that's the way you Polperro men keep abreast of Board of Trade regulations, it strikes me you might have done worse than lose your billet with the _Pride of the West_."

In the time left before the waterman brought them alongside, Mr. Rogers explained, as well as he could, the new system (as it was then) of licences; by which the Government winked at neutral vessels carrying goods into the enemy's ports, in spite of the blockade, and bringing us back Baltic timber for s.h.i.+pbuilding.

"But a Dutchman isn' no neutral," Captain Jacka objected.

"I did hear," said Mr. Rogers, stroking his chin and looking sideways, "that these licences have their market-price, and that in Amsterdam just now it's seven hundred rix-dollars."

"Well-a-well, if the Board of Trade's satisfied," says Jacka, "it's not for the likes of me to object. But if I was a Christian ruler I should think twice afore invitin' such a deal of hard swearin'."

"You'll find Captain Cornelisz a Lutheran," Mr. Rogers a.s.sured him, "and a very sociable fellow, with the little English he can muster."

Well, to make my story short, Jacka stepped on board and found the Dutch skipper monstrous polite and accommodating, though terrible sleepy, the reason being that, his mate falling sick at Kingston of the yellow fever, he had been forced to navigate his vessel home single-handed.

He owned up, too, that he had a poor head for ciphering, so that 'twas more by luck than good management he'd hit off the Channel at all.

At any rate he was glad enough of a chance to s.h.i.+ft off responsibility and take a sound nap, and inside of half an hour the bargain was struck over a gla.s.s of hot schnapps. Mr. Rogers shook hands and put off for sh.o.r.e again, and a boat went with him to fetch Jacka's kit, which he'd left in the office.

At six o'clock the _Van der Werf_ weighed anchor and headed out under easy canvas. The wind outside was almost dead contrary, E. by N. and half E., and blowing a little under half a gale, but the skipper seemed in a hurry, and Jacka didn't mind.

"She's a good boat by all seeming," said he as they cleared St.

Anthony's light; "but she wants a sea-way. I reckon, sir, you'd better stay on deck for a tack or two, till I find how she comes about.

I'm accustomed, you see, to something a bit sharper in the bows, and just at first that may tempt me to run it too fine."

"Who wants you to run it fine at all?" asked Captain Cornelisz.

"Well, naturally you'll work it in short tacks and hug the English side pretty close."

"Short tacks? Not a bit of it; tide'll be running up strong by time we're out in deep water. Put her right across for France, keep her pretty full--she won't bear pinching--and let her rip."

"Risky."

"How's that?"

"_Cha.s.se-marees_ are pretty thick, I'm told, once you get near t'other side, 'specially between Morlaix and Guernsey, let alone a chance of dropping across a French cruiser."

"My good man, I've been stopped twice on this voyage already by French cruisers: once off Brest, and the second time about fifty miles this side of Ushant."

"You don't tell me!" says Jacka. "How the d.i.c.kens did they let you go?"

"Well," answers the Dutchman, "I took the precaution of fitting myself _with two sets of papers_. Oh," says he, as Jacka lets out a low whistle, "it's the ordinary thing in our line of business. So you just do as I tell you and make the boards as long as you please, for I'm dropping with sleep in my boots. Keep the s.h.i.+p going, and if you sight anyone that looks like trouble just give me a hail down the companion, for I can talk to any frigate, British or French."

With that he bundled away below, and Jacka, after a word or two with the man at the helm, to make sure they understood enough of each other's lingo, settled down with his pipe for the night's work.

The wind held pretty steady, and the _Van der Werf_ made nothing of the cross-seas, being a beamy craft and fit for any weather in a sea-way.

Jacka conned her very careful, and decided there was no use in driving her; extra sail would only fling up more water without improving her speed. So he jogged along steady, keeping her full and by, and letting her take the seas the best way she liked them. Towards morning he even began to doze a bit, till warned by a new motion of the s.h.i.+p that she wasn't doing her best. He opened his eyes and shouted--

"Up with your helm, ye lubber! Hard up, I tell ye, and keep her full!"

A pretty heavy spray at that moment came over the bow and took him fair in the face, and he stumbled aft in none too sweet a temper. Then he saw what had happened: the fresh hand at the wheel had dozed off where he stood and let the _Van der Werf_ run up in the wind. The fellow was little more than a boy, and white in the face with want of sleep.

Captain Jacka was always a kind-hearted man. Said he, as he flung the spokes round, and the _Van der Werf_ began to pay off: "Look here, my lad, if you can't keep a better eye open, I'll take a trick myself.

So go you forward and stow yourself somewheres within call."

With that he took the helm, and glad of it, to keep himself awake; and so held her going till daybreak.

By eight in the morning, just as the light began creeping, and Jacka was calculating his whereabouts, he lifted his eye over the weather-bow, and--

"Hullo!" he sings out. "What's yonder to windward?"

The lad he'd relieved jumps up from where he'd been napping beside the bitts, and runs forward. But, whatever he sang out, Jacka paid no attention; for by this time his own one eye had told him all he wanted to know, and a trifle more; and he clutched at the wheel for a moment like a man dazed. Then, I believe, a sort of heavenly joy crept over his face, mixed with a sort of heavenly cunning.

"Call up the crew," he ordered. "I'm going to put her about. The whole crew--every man-Jack of them!"

By the time the men tumbled up, Jacka had his helm up, and the _Van der Werf_, with sheets pinned, was leaning to it and knocking up the unholiest sputter.

"All right, my lads. Don't stand glazing at me like stuck pigs.

Stand by to slacken sheets. I'm going to gybe her."

Well, they obeyed, though not a man of them could guess what he was after. Over went the big mainsail with a jerk that must have pitched Captain Cornelisz clean out of his bunk below; for half a minute later he comes puffing and growling up the companion and wanting to know in his best Dutch if this was the end of the world, and if not, what was it?

"That's capital," says Jacka, "for I was just about stepping down to call you. See that lugger, yonder?" He jerked his thumb over his shoulder at a speck in the grey from which the _Van der Werf_ was now running at something like nine knots an hour.

"Well?"

"I know that lugger, and we're running away from her."

"Pack of stuff!" says Captain Cornelisz, or Dutch to that effect.

"D'ee want to be told a dozen times that this is a licensed s.h.i.+p?"

And he called for his flag, to hoist it.

"Oh, drop your fancy pocket-handkerchiefs, and listen to reason, that's a dear man! _O' course_ I know you carry a licence; but the point is-- the lugger don't know. _O' course_ I'm running away from her, by your leave; but the point is--she can run and reach three miles to our two.

And lastly, _o' course_ you're master here, and can do what you please; but, if you're not pressed for time, there's money in it, and you shan't say I didn't give you the chance."

Captain Cornelisz eyed Jacka for a full minute, and then a d.i.n.ky little smile started in one eye and spread till it covered the whole of his wide face.

"You're a knowing one," said he.