University of Virginia Library

9. CHAPTER IX.

Massinger.

The two launches were still sailing side by side, and
Eve now appeared at the open window next the seat of
Paul. Her face was pale as when the scene of the cabin
occurred, and her lip trembled.

“I do not understand these warlike proceedings,” she

said; “but I trust, Mr. Blunt, we have no concern with
the present movement.”

“Put your mind at ease on this head, dearest Miss
Effingham, for what we now do we do in compliance with a
general law of manhood. Were your interests and the
interests of those with you alone consulted, we might come
to a very different decision: but I think you are in safe
hands should our adventure prove unfortunate.”

“Unfortunate! It is fearful to be so near a scene like
this! I cannot ask you to do any thing unworthy of yourself;
but, all that we owe you impels me to say, I trust
you have too much wisdom, too much true courage, to
incur unnecessary risks.”

The young man looked volumes of gratitude; but the
presence of the others kept its expression within due
bounds.

“We old sea dogs,” he answered, smiling, “are rather
noted for taking care of ourselves. They who are trained
to a business like this usually set about it too much in a
business-like manner to hazard anything for mere show.”

“And very wisely; Mr. Sharp, too,”—Eve's colour deepened
with a consciousness that Paul would have given worlds
to understand—“he has a claim on us we shall never forget.
My father can say all this better than I.”

Mr. Effingham now expressed his thanks for all that had
passed, and earnestly enjoined prudence on the young men.
After which Eve withdrew her head, and was seen no more.
Most of the next hour was passed in prayer by those in the
launch.

By this time the boats and raft were within half a mile
of the inlet; and Captain Truck ordered the kedge, which
had been transferred to the launch of the Montauk, to be let
go. As soon as this was done, the old seaman threw down
his hat, and stood on a thwart in his grey hair.

“Gentlemen, you have your orders,” he said with dignity;
for from that moment his manner rose with the occasion,
and had something of the grandeur of the warrior.
“You see the enemy. The reef must first be cleared, and
then the ship shall be carried. God knows who will live to
see the end; but that end must be success, or the bones of

John Truck shall bleach on these sands! Our cry is `The
Montauk and our own!' which is a principle Vattel will sustain
us in. Give way, men! a long pull, a strong pull, and
a pull altogether; each boat in its station!”

He waved his hand, and the oars fell into the water at the
same instant. The heavy launch was the last, for she had
double-fasts to the other boat. While loosening that forward
the second mate deserted his post, stepping nimbly on board
the departing boat, and concealing himself behind the foremost
of the two lug-sails she carried. Almost at the same
instant Mr. Dodge reversed this manœuvre by pretending to
be left clinging to the boat of the Montauk, in his zeal to
shove off. As the sails were drawing hard, and the oars
dashed the spray aside, it was too late to rectify either of
these mistakes, had it been desirable.

A few minutes of a stern calm succeeded, each boat keeping
its place with beautiful precision. The Arabs had left
the northern reef with the light; but, the tide being out,
hundreds were strung along the southern range of rocks,
especially near the ship. The wind carried the launch
ahead, as had been intended, and she soon drew near the
inlet.

“Take in the sails,” said Mr. Blunt. “See your gun
clear forward.”

A fine, tall, straight, athletic young seaman stood near
the grating, with a heated iron lying in a vessel of live coals
before him, in lieu of a loggerhead, the fire being covered
with a tarpaulin. As Paul spoke, this young mariner turned
towards him with the peculiar grace of a man-of-war's-man,
and touched his hat.

“Ay, ay, sir. All ready, Mr. Powis.”

Paul started, while the other smiled proudly, like one who
knew more than his companions.

“We have met before,” said the first.

“That have we sir, and in boat-duty, too. You were the
first on board the pirate on the coast of Cuba, and I was
second.”

A look of recognition and a wave of the hand passed
between them, the men cheering involuntarily. It was too
late for more, the launch being fairly in the inlet, where she

received a general but harmless fire from the Arabs. An
order had been given to fire the first shot over the heads of
the barbarians; but this assault changed the plan.

“Depress the piece, Brooks,” said Paul, “and throw in a
bag of slugs.”

“All ready, sir,” was uttered in another minute.

“Hold water, men—the boat is steady—let them have it.”

Men fell at that discharge; but how many was never
known, as the bodies were hurried off the reef by those who
fled. A few concealed themselves along the rocks, but most
scampered towards the shore.

“Bravely done!” cried Captain Truck, as his boat swept
past. “Now for the ship, sir!”

The people cheered again, and dashed their oars into the
water. To clear the reef was nothing; but to carry the
ship was a serious affair. She was defended by four times
the number of those in the boats, and there was no retreat.
The Arabs, as has already been seen, had suspended their
labour during the night, having fruitlessly endeavoured to
haul the vessel over to the reef before the tide rose. More
by accident than by calculation, they had made such arrangements
by getting a line to the rocks as would probably
have set the ship off the sands, when she floated at high
water; but this line had been cut by Paul in passing, and the
wind coming on shore again, during the confusion and clamour
of the barbarians, or at a moment when they thought
they were to be attacked, no attention was paid to the circumstance,
and the Montauk was suffered to drive up still
higher on the sands, where she effectually grounded at the
very top of the tide. As it was now dead low water, the
ship had sewed materially, and was now lying on her bilge,
partly sustained by the water, and partly by the bottom.

During the short pause that succeeded, Saunders, who was
seated in the captain's boat as a small-arms-man, addressed
his subordinate in a low voice.

“Now, Toast,” he said, “you are about to contend in
battle for the first time; and I diwine, from experience, that
the ewent gives you some sentiments that are werry original.
My adwice to you is, to shut both eyes until the word is
given to fire, and then to open them suddenly, as if just

awaking from sleep; after which you may present and pull
the trigger. Above all, Toast, take care not to kill any of
our own friends, most especially not Captain Truck, just at
this werry moment.”

“I shall do my endeavours, Mr. Saunders,” muttered
Toast, with the apathy and submissive dependence on others
with which the American black usually goes into action. “If
I do any harm, I hope it will be overlooked, on account of
my want of experience.”

“Imitate me, Toast, in coolness and propriety, and you'll
be certain not to offend. I do not mean that you too are to
kill the werry same Muscle-men that I kill, but that when I
kill one you are to kill another. And be werry careful not
to hurt Captain Truck, who'll be certain to run right afore
the muzzle of our guns, if he sees any thing to be done
there.”

Toast growled an assent, and then there was no other
noise in the boat than that which was produced by the steady
and vigorous falling of the oars. An attempt had been made
to lighten the vessel by unloading her, and the bank of sand
was already covered with bales and boxes, which had been
brought up from the hold by means of a stage, and by sheer
animal force. The raft had been extended in size, and
brought round to the bank by the stern of the vessel, with
the intention to load it, and to transfer the articles already
landed to the rocks.

Such was the state of things about the Montauk when the
boats came into the channel that ran directly up to the bank.
The launch led again, her sails having been set as soon as
the reef was swept, and she now made another discharge on
the deck of the ship, which, inclining towards the gun, offered
no shelter. The effect was to bring every Arab, in the
twinkling of an eye, down upon the bank.

“Hurrah!” shouted Captain Truck; “that grist has purified
the old bark! And now to see who is to own her! `The
thieves are out of the temple,' as my good father would have
said.”

The four boats were in a line abreast, the launch under
one sail only. A good deal of confusion existed on the bank;
but the Arabs sought the cover of the bales and boxes, and

opened a sharp though irregular fire. Three times, as they
advanced, the second mate and that gallant-looking young
seaman called Brooks discharged the gun, and at each discharge
the Arabs were dislodged and driven to the raft. The
cheers of the seamen became animated, though they still
plied the oars.

“Steadily, men,” said Captain Truck, “and prepare to
board.”

At this moment the launch grounded, though still twenty
yards from the bank, the other boats passing her with loud
cheers.

“We are all ready, sir,” cried Brooks.

“Let 'em have it. Take in the sail, boys.”

The gun was fired, and the tall young seaman sprang
upon the grating and cheered. As he looked backward,
with a smile of triumph, Paul saw his eyes roll. He leaped
into the air, and fell at his length dead upon the water; for
such is the passage of a man in battle, from one state of existence
to another.

“Where do we hang?” asked Paul steadily; “forward
or aft?”

It was forward, and deeper water lay ahead of them. The
sail was set again, and the people were called aft. The boat
tipped, and shot ahead towards the sands, like a courser released
from a sudden pull.

All this time the others were not idle. Not a musket was
fired from either boat until the whole three struck the bank,
almost at the same instant, though at as many different
points. Then all leaped ashore, and threw in a fire so close,
that the boxes served as much for a cover to the assailants
as to the assailed. It was at this critical moment, when the
seamen paused to load, that Paul, just clear of the bottom,
with his own hand applying the loggerhead, swept the rear
of the bank with a most opportune discharge.

“Yard-arm and yard-arm!” shouted Captain Truck.
“Lay 'em aboard, boys, and give 'em Jack's play!”

The whole party sprang forward, and from that moment
all order ceased. Fists, handspikes, of which many were
on the bank, and the butts of muskets, were freely used,
and in a way that set the spears and weapons of the Arabs

at defiance. The Captain, Mr. Sharp, John Effingham, Mr.
Monday, the soi-disant Sir George Templemore, and the
chief mate, formed a sort of Macedonian phalanx, which
penetrated the centre of the barbarians, and which kept
close to the enemy, following up its advantages with a spirit
that admitted of no rallying. On their right and left pressed
the men, an athletic, hearty, well-fed gang. The superiority
of the Arabs was in their powers of endurance; for, trained
to the whip-cord rigidity of racers, force was less their peculiar
merit than bottom. Had they acted in concert, however,
or had they been on their own desert, mounted, and
with room for their subtle evolutions, the result might have
been very different; but, unused to contend with an enemy
who brought them within reach of the arm, their tactics
were deranged, and all their habits violated. Still, their
numbers were formidable, and it is probable that the accident
to the launch, after all, decided the matter. From the
moment the mêlée began not a shot was fired, but the assailants
pressed upon the assailed, until a large body of the
latter had collected near the raft. This was just as the
launch reached the shore, and Paul perceived there was
great danger that the tide might roll backward from sheer
necessity. The gun was loaded, and filled nearly to the
muzzle with slugs. He caused the men to raise it on their
oars, and to carry it to a large box, a little apart from the
confusion of the fight. All this was done in a moment,
for three minutes had not yet passed since the captain
landed.

Instead of firing, Paul called aloud to his friends to cease
fighting. Though chafing like a vexed lion, Captain Truck
complied, surprise effecting quite as much as obedience.
The Arabs, hardest pressed upon, profited by the pause to
fall back on the main body of their friends, near the raft.
This was all Paul could ask, and he ordered the gun to be
pointed at the centre of the group, while he advanced himself
towards the enemy, making a sign of peace.

“Damn 'em, lay 'em aboard!” cried the captain: “no
quarter to the blackguards!”

“I rather think we had better charge again,” added Mr.
Sharp, who was thoroughly warmed with his late employment.

“Hold, gentlemen; you risk all needlessly. I will show
these poor wretches what they have to expect, and they
will probably retire. We want the ship, not their blood.”

“Well, well,” returned the impatient captain, “give 'em
plenty of Vattel, for we have 'em now in a category.”

The men of the wilderness and of the desert seem to act
as much by instinct as by reason. An old sheik advanced,
smiling, towards Paul, when the latter was a few yards in
advance of his friends, offering his hand with as much cordiality
as if they met merely to exchange courtesies. Paul
led him quietly to the gun, put his hand in, and drew out a
bag of slugs, replaced it, and pointed significantly at the
dense crowd of exposed Arabs, and at the heated iron that
was ready to discharge the piece. At all this the old Arab
smiled, and seemed to express his admiration. He was
then showed the strong and well-armed party, all of whom
by this time had a musket or a pistol ready to use. Paul
then signed to the raft and to the reef, as much as to tell the
other to withdraw his party.

The sheik exhibited great coolness and sagacity, and,
unused to frays so desperate, he signified his disposition to
comply. Truces, Paul knew, were common in the African
combats, which are seldom bloody, and he hoped the best
from the manner of the sheik, who was now permitted to
return to his friends. A short conference succeeded among
the Arabs, when several of them smilingly waved their
hands, and most of the party crowded on the raft. Others
advanced, and asked permission to bear away their wounded,
and the bodies of the dead, in both of which offices they
were assisted by the seamen, as far as was prudent; for it
was all-important to be on the guard against treachery.

In this extraordinary manner the combatants separated,
the Arabs hauling themselves over to the reef by a line,
their old men smiling, and making signs of amity, until
they were fairly on the rocks. Here they remained but a
very few minutes, for the camels and dromedaries were seen
trotting off towards the Dane on the shore; a sign that the
compact between the different parties of the barbarians was
dissolved, and that each man was about to plunder on his
own account. This movement produced great agitation

among the old sheiks and their followers on the reef, and
set them in motion with great activity towards the land. So
great was their hurry, indeed, that the bodies of all the
dead, and of several of the wounded, were fairly abandoned
on the rocks, at some distance from the shore.

The first step of the victors, as a matter of course, was
to inquire into their own loss. This was much less than
would have otherwise been, on account of their good conduct.
Every man, without a solitary exception, had ostensibly
behaved well; one of the most infallible means of
lessening danger. Several of the party had received slight
hurts, and divers bullets had passed through hats and jackets.
Mr. Sharp, alone, had two through the former, besides one
through his coat. Paul had blood drawn on an arm, and
Captain Truck, to use his own language, resembled “a
horse in fly-time,” his skin having been rased in no less
than five places. But all these trifling hurts and hair-breadth
escapes counted for nothing, as no one was seriously
injured by them, or felt sufficient inconvenience even to report
himself wounded.

The felicitations were warm and general; even the seamen
asking leave to shake their sturdy old commander by
the hand. Paul and Mr. Sharp fairly embraced, each
expressing his sincere pleasure that the other had escaped
unharmed. The latter even shook hands cordially with his
counterfeit, who had acted with spirit from the first to the
last. John Effingham alone maintained the same cool indifference
after the affair that he had shown in it, when it was
seen that he had played his part with singular coolness and
discretion, dropping two Arabs with his fowling-piece on
landing, with a sort of sportsman-like coolness with which
he was in the habit of dropping woodcocks at home.

“I fear Mr. Monday is seriously hurt,” this gentleman
said to the captain, in the midst of his congratulations: “he
sits aloof on the box yonder, and looks exhausted.”

“Mr. Monday! I hope not, with all my heart and soul.
He is a capital diplomate, and a stout boarder. And Mr.
Dodge, too! I miss Mr. Dodge.”

“Mr. Dodge must have remained behind to console the
ladies,” returned Paul, “finding that your second mate had
abandoned them, like a recreant that he is.”

The captain shook his disobedient mate by the hand a
second time, and swore he was a mutineer for violating his
orders, and ended by declaring that the day was not distant
when he and Mr. Leach should command two as good liners
as ever sailed out of America.

“I'll have nothing to do with either of you as soon as we
reach home,” he concluded. “There was Leach a foot or
two ahead of me the whole time; and, as for the second
officer, I should be justified in logging him as having run.
Well, well; young men will be young men; and so would
old men too, Mr. John Effingham, if they knew how. But
Mr. Monday does look doleful; and I am afraid we shall be
obliged to overhaul the medicine-chest for him.”

Mr. Monday, however, was beyond the aid of medicine.
A ball had passed through his shoulder-blade in landing;
notwithstanding which he had pressed into the mêlée, where,
unable to parry it, a spear had been thrust into his chest.
The last wound appeared grave, and Captain Truck immediately
ordered the sufferer to be carried into the ship: John
Effingham, with a tenderness and humanity that were singularly
in contrast to his ordinary sarcastic manner, volunteering
to take charge of him.

“We have need of all our forces,” said Captain Truck,
as Mr. Monday was borne away; “and yet it is due to our
friends in the launch to let them know the result. Set the
ensign, Leach; that will tell them our success, though a
verbal communication can alone acquaint them with the particulars.”

“If,” interrupted Paul, eagerly, “you will lend me the
launch of the Dane, Mr. Sharp and myself will beat her up
to the raft, let our friends know the result, and bring the
spars down to the inlet. This will save the necessity of any
of the men's being absent. We claim the privilege, too, as
belonging properly to the party that is now absent.”

“Gentlemen, take any privilege you please. You have
stood by me like heroes; and I owe you all more than the
heel of a worthless old life will ever permit me to pay.”

The two young men did not wait for a second invitation,
but in five minutes the boat was stretching through one of
the channels that led landward; and in five more it was
laying out of the inlet with a steady breeze.

The instant Captain Truck retrod the deck of his ship
was one of uncontrollable feeling with the weather-beaten
old seaman. The ship had sewed too much to admit of
walking with ease, and he sat down on the coamings of the
main hatch, and fairly wept like an infant. So high had
his feelings been wrought that this outbreaking was violent,
and the men wondered to see their grey-headed, stern, old
commander, so completely unmanned. He seemed at length
ashamed of the weakness himself, for, rising like a worried
tiger, he began to issue his orders as sternly and promptly
as was his wont.

“What the devil are you gaping at, men!” he growled;
“did you never see a ship on her bilge before? God knows,
and for that matter you all know, there is enough to do, that
you stand like so many marines, with their `eyes right!'
and `pipe-clay.' ”

“Take it more kindly, Captain Truck,” returned an old
sea-dog, thrusting out a hand that was all knobs, a fellow
whose tobacco had not been displaced even by the fray;
“take it kindly, and look upon all these boxes and bales as
so much cargo that is to be struck in, in dock. We'll soon
stow it, and, barring a few slugs, and one four-pounder, that
has cut up a crate of crockery as if it had been a cat in a
cupboard, no great harm is done. I look upon this matter
as no more than a sudden squall, that has compelled us to
bear up for a little while, but which will answer for a winch
to spin yarns on all the rest of our days. I have fit the
French, and the English, and the Turks, in my time; and
now I can say I have had a brush with the niggers.”

“D—n me, but you are right, old Tom! and I'll make
no more account of the matter. Mr. Leach, give the people
a little encouragement. There is enough left in the jug that
you'll find in the stern-sheets of the pinnace; and then turn-to,
and strike in all this dunnage, that the Arabs have been
scattering on the sands. We'll stow it when we get the
ship into an easier bed than the one in which she is now
lying.”

This was the signal for commencing work; and these
straight-forward tars, who had just been in the confusion and
hazards of a fight, first took their grog, and then commenced

their labour in earnest. As they had only, with their knowledge
and readiness, to repair the damage done by the ignorant
and hurried Arabs, in a short time every thing was on
board the ship again, when their attention was directed to
the situation of the vessel itself. Not to anticipate events,
however, we will now return to the party in the launch.

The reader will readily imagine the feelings with which
Mr. Effingham and his party listened to the report of the
first gun. As they all remained below, they were ignorant
who the individual really was that kept pacing the roof
over their heads, though it was believed to be the second
mate, agreeably to the arrangement made by Captain Truck.

“My eyes grow dim,' said Mr. Effingham, who was
looking through a glass; “will you try to see what is passing,
Eve?”

“Father, I cannot look,” returned the pallid girl. “It is
misery enough to hear these frightful guns.”

“It is awful!” said Nanny, folding her arms about her
child, “and I wonder that such gentlemen as Mr. John and
Mr. Powis should go on an enterprise so wicked!”

“Voulez-vous avoir la complaisance, monsieur?” said
Mademoiselle Viefville, taking the glass from the unresisting
hand of Mr. Effingham. “Ha! le combat commence en
effet!”

“Is it the Arabs who now fire?” demanded Eve, unable,
in spite of terror, to repress her interest.

“Non, c'est cet admirable jeune homme, Monsieur Blunt,
qui dévance tous les autres!”

“And now, mademoiselle, that must surely be the barbarians?”

“Du tout. Les sauvages fuient. C'est encore du bateau
de Monsieur Blunt qu'on tire. Quel beau courage!
son bateau est toujours des premiers!”

“That shout is frightful! Do they close?”

“On crie des deux parts, je crois. Le vieux capitaine
est en avant à présent, et Monsieur Blunt s'arrête!”

“May Heaven avert the danger! Do you see the gentlemen
at all, Mademoiselle?”

“La fumée est trop épaisse. Ah! les violà! On tire
encore de son bateau.”

“Eh bien, mademoiselle?” said Eve tremulously, after
a long pause.

“C'est déjà fini. Les Arabes se retirent et nos amis se
sont emparés du bâtiment. Cela a été l'affaire d'un moment,
et que le combat a été glorieux! Ces jeunes gens
sont vraiment dignes d'être Français, et le vieux capitaine,
aussi.'

“Are there no tidings for us, mademoiselle?” asked
Eve, after another long pause, during which she had
poured out her gratitude in trembling, but secret thanksgivings.

“Non, pas encore. Ils se félicitent, je crois.”

“It's time, I'm sure, ma'am,” said the meek-minded Ann,
“to send forth the dove, that it may find the olive branch.
War and strife are too sinful to be long indulged in.”

“There is a boat making sail in this direction,” said
Mr. Effingham, who had left the glass with the governess,
in complaisance to her wish.

“Oui, c'est le bateau de Monsieur Blunt.”

“And who is in it?” demanded the father, for the meed
of a world could not have enabled Eve to speak.

“Je vois Monsieur Sharp—oui, c'est bien lui.”

“Is he alone?”

“Non, il y en a deux — mais — oui — c'est Monsieur
Blunt,—notre jeune heros!”

Eve bowed her face, and even while her soul melted in
gratitude to God, the feelings of her sex caused the telltale
blood to suffuse her features to the brightness of
crimson.

Mr. Effingham now took the glass from the spirited
Frenchwoman, whose admiration of brilliant qualities had
overcome her fears, and he gave a more detailed and connected
account of the situation of things near the ship, as
they presented themselves to a spectator at that distance.

Notwithstanding they already knew so much, it was a
painful and feverish half hour to those in the launch, the
time that intervened between this dialogue and the moment
when the boat of the Dane came alongside of their own.
Every face was at the windows, and the young men were
received like deliverers, in whose safety all felt a deep
concern.

“But, cousin Jack,” said Eve, across whose speaking
countenance apprehension and joy cast their shadows and
gleams like April clouds driving athwart a brilliant sky,
“my father has not been able to discover his form among
those who move about on the bank.”

The gentlemen explained the misfortune of Mr. Monday,
and related the manner in which John Effingham had
assumed the office of nurse. A few delicious minutes
passed; for nothing is more grateful than the happiness
that first succeeds a victory, and the young men proceeded
to lift the kedge, assisted by the servant of Mr. Effingham.
The sails were set; and in fifteen minutes the raft—the
long-desired and much-coveted raft—approached the inlet.

Paul steered the larger boat, and gave to Mr. Sharp
directions how to steer the other. The tide was flowing
into the passage; and, by keeping his weatherly position,
the young man carried his long train of spars with so much
precision into its opening, that, favoured by the current, it
was drawn through without touching a rock, and brought
in triumph to the very margin of the bank. Here it was
secured, the sails and cordage were brought ashore, and
the whole party landed.

The last twenty hours seemed like a dream to all the females,
as they again walked the solid sand in security and
hope. They had now assembled every material of safety,
and all that remained was to get the ship off the shore, and
to rig her; Mr. Leach having already reported that she was
as tight as the day she left London.