Humphrey Bold Part 23

"Why are they gagged, monsieur?" asked the maire.

I repeated the explanation I had already given.

"Terrible!" said the maire, and the captain grew purple in the face.

"You perceive I could not allow my men's ears to be defiled by the language of such a ruffian," I remarked.

"Perfectly, monsieur. Ah, scilerat!" he cried, shaking his fist at the infuriate officer, and pouring out upon him a torrent of loyal abuse which I find it impossible to translate.

Then he turned to the bosun, and asked him how he had come by his wound. The bosun was quick-witted enough to take my cue, and, pointing to the captain, whose reputation as the most violent of the deserters was clearly established, he made through his bandages a series of grunts and roars which proved to the maire's satisfaction that his jaw was very seriously damaged. And last of all inspecting my comrades, who stood aside with trouble in their faces, he bestowed on them sundry offensive epithets which I was thankful they did not understand, for otherwise I am sure they would have forgotten their part and endangered everything by administering a castigation.

The maire arranged to billet us all. Having seen my double set of prisoners securely locked up, and the deserters with Joe and the bosun accommodated in a room hard by, I offered to convey Monsieur Duguay-Trouin's message myself to his lieutenant, saying that I should be charmed to make the acquaintance of the deputy of so renowned a seaman. The maire took this as a great mark of condescension. Accordingly I went down to the jetty, not far below the maire's house, and accosting the officer in charge, a rough-spun seaman, I gave him the message, and then bantered him in a tone of good humor.

"So the English have been too much for you this time, lieutenant,"

I said. "It is Benbow, they say; a terrible fire eater, is he not?"

"Bah!" exclaimed the Frenchman. "Let him beware. He is no match for Duguay-Trouin, and we'll beat him again as we have done before, never fear."

"But they say he is bottling up St. Malo," I said.

"So he is," he replied with a laugh: "and while he is bottling up St. Malo we shall slip by to Havre; trust Duguay for that."

I asked him how the prizes had been captured, and he launched forth into a long and vainglorious account (why must the French always boast of their successes?). I affected to be greatly impressed by his tale of daring, and invited him to sup with me, so that I might hear more of his adventures at length. As I had guessed, he replied, regretfully, that he could not leave the vessel.

"I am not to be balked," I said. "I have set my heart upon it: one does not get every day the opportunity of hearing of these glorious exploits at first hand. If you cannot come to supper, then supper shall come to you. Monsieur Duguay-Trouin would not object, I presume, to my bringing a little entertainment on board."

"My faith, no," replied the officer, taking this as a high compliment. "I shall be charmed. I only regret that I cannot invite you, monsieur, but our cook, together with all the crew but four, is on sh.o.r.e for a spell, and I have no means of providing a repast worthy of a gallant captain."

I returned in haste to the maire, and informed the maire that I should share my supper with the lieutenant, who had not enjoyed a meal fit for a Frenchman for three weeks. The maire could raise no reasonable objection, though I doubt not, being economical, he grudged this extra demand upon his hospitality. As for me, I had no scruples at getting, at the King's expense, the best meal possible at such short notice.

While it was preparing, I explained my design to Joe and the bosun.

They a.s.sented to it with enthusiasm; it was one that mightily pleased them as sailormen; and appealed as much to their sense of humor as to their love of daring.

When the supper was ready, I told off two of the three deserters, with Joe and the bosun, to carry it down to the brig on tables made of boards, each laid on two muskets. The lieutenant received me with open arms, and led me immediately to the captain's cabin.

Having placed the viands on the table, the two deserters returned to the deck, to fraternize with the French crew. The other two I kept, ostensibly to wait at table; and I remarked to the lieutenant on their willingness to do their duty in spite of their wounds, of which I gave him a brief explanation.

It was already becoming dusk; we had no time to lose if my design was to succeed, for with the imminent arrival of Duguay-Trouin our fate was sealed.

Chapter 19: I Fight Duguay-Trouin.

I had brought wine on board, but before a bottle was opened I said, with a wink at the lieutenant:

"I fear this wine of the country will taste somewhat thin after English rum, monsieur."

"We have a great quant.i.ty of it in the hold, monsieur," he said laughing, "and with your leave I will order my men to broach a cask."

He shouted his command to the men on deck. Instantly Joe, who was behind him, threw his arm round the officer's neck, thrust a gag into his mouth, and with the bosun's aid deftly tied his arms and legs together. Then all three of us ran up the companion way. In obedience to the lieutenant's command two of the men had gone forward and were descending through the open hatchway into the hold. While the deserters held the rest of the men in talk, the bosun strolled carelessly after the two, and as soon as they had disappeared, quietly clapped on the hatch and battened it down.

Meanwhile Joe and I joined the group at the bulwarks, without awakening suspicion among the crew. At a signal from me the men tripped them up, and in another two minutes they were lying gagged and bound on the deck.

It was scarcely ten minutes since we came on board, and we had done everything without the least noise to alarm the town. Then, leaving the deserters to guard the s.h.i.+p, I returned in all haste with the others to the maire.

"What shall we do with our prisoners, Joe?" I asked, as we hurried along.

"Leave 'em locked up, sir, and lock the maire up with them in case of accidents."

"But I think we will bring the captain and the sergeant," I said.

"You see, they have got our clothes."

"But these are better, sir," he replied, "and you make a rare fine captain, smite my timbers if you don't."

"Still, we will bring them; a taste of prison may do the captain, at any rate, a world of good."

And so, when we got to the mairie, I unlocked the door where the prisoners were confined, told my comrades in a few words what had happened, and bade them go forth into the street, when Joe and the bosun had loosed their bands and hasten to the harbor.

The maire, learning that I had returned, had followed me in, and hearing these words of English, and seeing Joe and the bosun untying the cords, he cried to me to know what I was about. The bosun instantly laid hands on him and began to truss him up. He gave one shout of alarm, which Joe deftly checked with a gag made of the bandage he had stripped from his head, and then he was laid on the floor beside the Frenchmen. Then we seized the captain and sergeant, and having locked the door again, marched them among us at a brisk pace to the harbor and on to the brig.

"Now, man, we have no time to lose," I said, as we stepped aboard.

"'Tis nearly dark, and Doggy-Trang, as you call him, may return any minute. Luckily the tide is fast ebbing.

"Cast off, Joe; Bosun, run up the sail. And we are only just in time. Here they come."

And indeed we had escaped only by the skin of our teeth, for I saw a number of French seamen coming down the streets and a horseman behind them. No doubt it was Duguay-Trouin himself, and his coming had caused his men to turn out of the cabarets. The brig was already moving from the jetty; the practised hands of my comrades were at work with the sails; and as the vessel slipped away quickly on the ebbing tide, from sheer lightheartedness and pleasure at the success of our trick they made the welkin ring with their cheers.

I was as hilarious as they. The Frenchmen were crowding on the jetty, shouting, cursing, actually screaming to us to come back. I mounted the bulwarks, and, clinging to the shrouds, took off my hat (or rather the captain's) and waved it gaily towards Duguay-Trouin, who, having dismounted, had pushed through his men, and was evidently angrily demanding an explanation of the extraordinary scene he had arrived in time to witness. The townsfolk and fishers were flocking down now in great numbers; the shouting increased to a veritable pandemonium, and as we scudded away farther and farther into the growing darkness I heard the scurrying of feet on the cobble stones and the creaking of blocks as the sails were run up on the smacks in the harbor.

They were going to pursue us, then! I laughed aloud. With nine good English tars aboard an English brig I thought I could snap my fingers at Duguay-Trouin in a smack.

But there was one danger, which, after the flush of jubilation had died down, I was quick to appreciate. Duguay-Trouin's privateer was lying off the point a few miles northward, and if, in answer to a signal, she were to join in the chase, I saw that our chances of getting away were small enough. Even as the thought struck me, two musket shots were fired from the harbor. These were doubtless a signal, but they could scarcely convey any real information: the capture of the brig at its moorings was too unlikely a thing to have been provided against. But the shots would set the privateer on the alert, and we must run no risks of encountering her. So, instead of running straight out into the channel, we stood away up the coast, keeping the brig close-hauled. She proved somewhat slow in working to windward, but we were now almost totally enveloped in darkness, and by hugging the sh.o.r.e were not so likely to be descried from the privateer as if we ran out to sea.

Unluckily this gave the pursuers some advantage of us. Looking in our wake, I by and by discerned three smacks in full chase, and perceived that they were steadily overhauling us. The brig carried a bra.s.s gun, and I thought it well to get her ready for use, though I was determined not to fire save in extremity, since the flash would apprise the privateer of our direction and bring her on our track. But the distance between us and the leading smack grew less and less, and knowing that we dare not allow them to close in upon us (for doubtless their crews vastly outnumbered ours and would overpower us if they got the chance to board), I at length, when our enemy was within about half a cable's length of us, called to the bosun to fire, aiming to hull her just below water line.

He set his match to the touch hole, and the round shot flew forth.

I could not tell whether the smack was. .h.i.t or not, but 'twas clear that she had suffered little or no damage, for she came on as fast as ever. The bosun reloaded in all haste, and fired again when she could not have been above fifty yards distant. This time I knew the shot had struck her, but she still came on, and as she was now below our line of fire I feared it would come to push of pike after all. But a moment or two afterwards I rejoiced to see that she was losing way: our shot had gone home. The other two smacks overtook her, and then began a dropping fire of musketry from all three.

Clearly it was no longer expedient to hull them merely. Their speed was so much superior to the brig's that even if we hit one or other of them they might close in before their pace was much checked by the inrush of water. Loath as I was to spill blood, I bade the bosun now load the gun with grape, and my qualms were banished when I heard cries of pain, and learned that Runnles and another had been hit by musket shots. The smack that was leading was coming up directly in our wake.

"Give it her, Bosun!" I cried.

"She shall have it," he answered, and immediately she was swept by the grape shot from stem to stern, yells and execrations telling that the bosun had not aimed in vain. She at once paid off before the wind: 'twas clear the steersman had been hit; and before another man could take his place and bring her head round the smack behind crashed into her.

I had good hope that the chase was now ended, and we might go rejoicing on our way to the white sh.o.r.es of England. But I was reckoning without Duguay-Trouin. For a few moments we drew away from our pursuers; but then I saw that the third smack had cleared herself from the one she had run into and was again sailing swiftly in our wake, having apparently suffered no injury. The bosun had already re-charged the gun with grape, but when he fired, at a range which forbade the possibility of missing, there were only one or two cries instead of the chorus we had heard before.

"Burst me if they be not lying down in the bottom," said Joe, standing at my side, "and the shot have pa.s.sed clean over them."

"And 'tis no good firing again," I said. "We can't depress the gun enough to hull her or hit the men, and the shot will only cut holes in the rigging. Would we had tried round shot and brought down her mast."