University of Virginia Library

4. CHAPTER IV.
The Wrecker.

We shall now take our readers on board the shallop,
not following her from the harbor, but letting her proceed
on her course for the present, and go back to the
morning of the day on which she dropped down alongside
of the sloop-of-war.

The shallop, at the time we are to visit her, lay at
anchor quite up to the city above the quay, and before
the entrance of a small inlet or dock that made in close
under the walls of an old guard-house, which was now
converted into a pulperia, or wine tavern, and a famed
resort for Spanish boatmen and sailors of the worst
description.

It was about nine o'clock on the morning of this
day, that a man a little above the common height, with
broad massive shoulders, and whose age might be
about fifty, came up from below the shallop's decks,
and looked around him with a quick, observing glance.
There was, to a close observer of men, distinguishable
about him an air like that of one who had once mingled
in good society; a look of intelligence, education,
and polish, though now nearly obliterated by his present
savage appearance and costume. His dress was
that peculiar to many of the Bahama wreckers — a
red and blue striped woollen shirt, with loose canvass
trowsers, and a sash tied about his waist instead of

suspenders. His head was surmounted by a crimson
woollen cap, with the pointed top hanging down over
the ear; and beneath it escaped masses of mingled
black and gray hair, the latter predominating. His
features were bold, yet repulsive, and decidedly English.
There dwelt upon his face an expression of
settled fierceness, to use this word for want of one of
closer meaning, and his mustachoed lip seemed habitually
compressed with a look of hostile defiance. His
powerful frame and malignity of aspect made him a
man to be feared if he possessed power over his
species.

He was without weapons save a seaman's sheath-knife
stuck in his sash.

The shallop was a small lugger, her deck flush, and
about thirty paces from stem to stern, steered by a tiller,
and rigged with fore and main-sail, with a stump mast
over the taffrail for carrying when before the wind a
square-sail, called a `driver.' She was very broad in
the beam, her width amidship being nearly half her
length. She had a hold for the stowage of cargo, and
the hatchway served both for entrance to it and for
access to the after part of the vessel, where the skipper
lodged, in a small room separated from the main hold
by a low bulk-head. There was a place in the forward
part of the craft for her crew. She was apparently
very old, seemed once to have been painted
black, but was now throughout of a rusty brown hue,
and her canvass was of the same dingy color. Her
rigging was much worn, and in some places was repaired
by strips of raw hide instead of rope. Upon
the forward deck was a fire-place of bricks, in which

a fire was now burning and over which an Indian
half-blood, descended from the aborigines of the islands,
was cooking a breakfast savory of garlie.

These two were the only persons visible on board
the shallop. Her boat was absent, and probably
had taken all the crew; and for the return of this
he seemed to be watching, as his glance was directed
towards the landing-place, that was shut in by overhanging
Spanish houses, which threatened each moment
to fall into the sluggish water of the gloomy dock.
There was an angle in the pier, and a vessel similar to
his own lying in the range of his vision, so that he
could not see the steps of the landing from his deck.

`Hoyo!'

`Señor?' responded the half-breed.

`Throw yourself into the water and swim to the
pier, and hasten those loiterers with the boat. I would
go on shore.'

The lith Indian was about to throw off his gingham
shirt, when he was arrested by the voice of the skipper.

`Stay! they are coming.'

With a swift pull, a small canoe-shaped boat came
from the recesses of the dock and rapidly approached
the shallop. It was pulled by two men, a third being
seated in the stern. They were all Spaniards, and
were garbed much like their captain, save that one of
them instead of a woollen cap wore a broad-brimmed
palm hat, deeply shading his brows. This person was
he who sat in the stern of the boat. His age was
about twenty-four, his features handsome naturally,
but marred by that peculiar expression which vice and
crime indelibly impresses upon the countenance, even

of the most beautiful, if beauty can be without virtue
and honor.

`How is this, Vique?' demanded the skipper sternly,
addressing him in Spanish. `Said I not I must be
on shore at eight?'

`I had some difficulty, Captain Ingles, in finding the
agent Davila,' answered Vique, as he sprang lightly on
deck.

`And will he take all?'

`He wants all the articles, but demurs at the price.
However, he waits to see you in the pulperia of the old
guard-house, to pay you the money.'

`He shall not have an article for one marovedi less
than the price I have set upon them. Remain in the
boat, nombres, and pull me ashore. Vique, you see
that all is ready for sailing, for I shall depart in an
hour; for it is not safe to lay too long here.'

`No, Señor; it was whispered to me by more than
one buen comrada last night, after I had landed the
goods, and stored them in the place you named, and
gone into the wine-shop, that there was a strong feeling
growing against all wreckers on account of—you
know what, Capitan,' said Vique, significantly. `Innocent
as we are, we may be suspected, and I am
quite willing to leave Havana over the shallop's taffrail
as soon as you give the order.'

`These rumors are idle, for nothing positive can be
known touching us,' answered the skipper, with disdain;
`still, as we shall get through our affairs as soon
as I have adjusted this matter with Señor Davila, have
all ready to start as soon as I come on board.'

Thus speaking, `Ingles,' as he was called by Vique,

entered the boat and was pulled in the direction of the
sunken stairway. On reaching it he stepped on land
and said,

`Leave not the boat nor your oars until my return.
Lay the boat's head towards the shallop, and be ready
to pull back to her at a moment's notice.'

He then ascended the steps between black slimy
walls of stone, and passing through an arch at the top,
where once had been placed a gate, the hinges of
which only remained, he found himself in one of the
narrowest and most obscure streets of Havana. Ranges
of dingy tenements, of stone or brick, stuccoed and
grown mouldy with time and moisture, stood on either
hand, and occupied chiefly as wine-shops, gambling-rooms,
with a cock-pit at intervals of every dozen
doors. Opposite to the arch rose, black and sombre,
the strong walls of a prison, with only a single window
upon the street, but this full thirty feet in height, and
strongly grated from the pavement to the roof. It
looked into a vast common hall, in which he could see
full a hundred prisoners assembled, and from which
came sounds almost infernal. The tall window was
also filled with prisoners, from the bottom to the top,
standing on the cross-bars of iron, one over the other,
gazing into the street, talking with their acquaintances,
begging money from the passers by, or scattering oaths
and vulgar witticisms upon every one going along.

As Ingles came into this street he drew his cap over
his eyes, so that the hanging top would droop over and
conceal his features, and, without noticing the calls to
him for money that proceeded from the prison window,
he passed along rapidly till he came to about the ninth

door from the arch, where he entered, glad to escape
more than one voice, hailing familiar recognition of
him from the carcel.

The place he entered was a Spanish tavern, containing
a bar at one extremity lined with shelves of
wine-bottles, and around the walls many little tables
for the guests. There were but three persons in the
room, and two of these were men-of-war's men; the
third individual was seated at a table in a retired nook,
as if to escape observation. Ingles, on entering, looked
keenly round. His eye fell on this man, who was a
short, fat little Spaniard, in a soiled red-velvet waistcoat,
a remarkably long queue, and very dirty ruffles
at his wrists and bosom. He had a pair of iron spectacles
upon the table by his side, and also a cup of
wine before him, with a piece of bread and a garlic
half eaten.

`Señor Davila, good morning,' said Ingles, approaching
him; and, taking a seat directly opposite to
him, he bent upon him his large gray eyes for an instant,
and then added, `Vique tells me you like the
goods but decline the full payment!'

`The goods are good goods, Señor Ingles, and are
precisely what I can turn to profit in my shop on the
Plaza; but if I pay you the twelve hundred dollars
aggregate you demand, I can make no profit at all.'

`We have traded before and had no words, Davila,
and I desire none now. Those goods cost me much!
They cost men their lives! Their price has been
blood, and I swear to you, por Dios! that I will
not abate the tenth part of a peso! I know the value
of the goods, and that you can pay this and yet continue
to enrich yourself as you have done.'

The Spanish merchant looked in the face of the
wrecker for an instant and then answered,

`Be it so! I will pay the price, though it is very
dear, Señor Ingles.'

The skipper made no reply, save by an impatient
movement of his mustachoed lip. Davila slowly took
from his pocket a large leathern purse, and laying it
before him upon the table, untied it and poured forth
the contents, which were Spanish ounces and half-ounces.
He then slowly counted out one thousand
dollars, and thrust it over towards the wrecker.

`There, Señor Capitan, there is gold for thy goods.'

`It is not enough!'

`There is one hundred pesos more.'

`It is not the sum I demand. Trifle not with me
and make this delay. I must not dally here.'

`Thou art a hard dealer, Señor,' answered Davila,
thrusting him the remainder. `There is thy price.'

`And thou hast the goods in store below. Adios,
Señor,' and the wrecker rose to go.

`Take wine with me, Señor. I always close a bargain
with good wine, and this is a rare wine, which I
ordered expressly for thee and me! a glass will refresh
thee, and make thee cheerful; for, by our lady, you
always look gloomy enough!'

The wrecker frowned, but letting the curtain fall
again before the alcove, he reseated himself at the
table and extended his glass, which the merchant filled.
Ingles was about to lift it to his lips, when the door
opened and a young American midshipman and two
sailors entered. The midshipman was Harry.

One of the two men-of-war's men, who were drinking
at the farther extremity of the pulperia, seated in a
darkened box, looked out between their curtains, on
hearing the door open, and immediately uttered a warning
cry to his companion, and both together rushed
from their table, leaped over the bar and darted through
a door in the room. Harry was about to follow the
deserters with his men, when the Spanish pulperero,
who was in the bar, placed himself before the passage,
with a long glittering knife, and said, as he brandished
it,

`No puede pasar aqui, Señor.'

Harry drew his stiletto, but immediately replaced it
in its sheath, and giving orders to his men to follow
him round to the back of the shop, he darted out of
the street door, without having discovered the two
men, the merchant and the wrecker, seated in the box
by the door.

But the latter had caught sight of Harry's features,
as he was leaving the pulperia, and on beholding them
he started with such impetuosity that the wine-bottle
was overset, while an exclamation of mingled hatred
and surprise escaped his lips. Without saying a word
in explanation to Davila, he instantly left the box and
advanced quickly to follow the youth, the recognition
of whom had produced such an extraordinary effect
upon him. But ere he opened the door, he stopped
short and turned back and approached the bar, where
stood the swarthy pulperero, replacing his knife in his
girdle.

`Pepe, do you know what ship those two seamen
deserted from, that this officer was after?' he demanded,

in a tone that made the merchant survey him with
surprise, and Pepe to stare a moment before he replied,

`The Augusta, Señor.'

`An American?'

`Si, Señor.'

`She lays at anchor, near the Moro?'

`Si, Señor Capitan. She dropped down there yesterday,
and is ready for sea, the two marineros say.
They give me, you know, two doubaloons a piece to
conceal them till she is clear of the harbor.'

`Do you know her destination?'

`I believe, a cruise to windward.'

The wrecker made no further inquiry; but after
reflecting a moment, he was abruptly leaving the pulperia,
when Davila cried,

`Ah, bless us, Señor Ingles, you go without your
gold, which you have left here on the table, tied up in
a handkerchief. You see I am an honest man.'

`Very honest, Señor,' responded Ingles, ironically;
and taking up the money he placed it in his breast-pocket
and quitted the house. Before advancing along
the street, he looked on either hand as if in search of
the young midshipman; but not seeing him, he said,

`Well, let him go, now! If that sloop does not sail
to-night, he is mine, and my revenge upon those I have
hated, as other men love, shall then be complete. Had
I known all I have lately learned and now know, I
should never have let him gone as I did. But I will
make amends for this folly, by getting him once more
into my power. He is attached to this sloop, then. It
is many years since I last saw him, when I left him in
Boston, but I cannot be mistaken. The youth has the

same face that the child had. I knew, too, from my
faithful spy, that he was in some ship in the American
service. Now, how to get him into my possession?
for, without him, all I have done hitherto is but half
done, and done in vain. Were it night, and he without
the men with him, I would seize him at any risk,
before he reached his ship.'

He walked slowly on, planning some scheme for
possessing himself of the person of the youth, whom
he had so singularly met. He knew that he would
soon return on board the sloop-of-war; and after some
deliberation, he resolved to go on board his shallop,
and send Vique, whose person was less known than
his own, to ascertain in the town when the sloop was
likely to get under weigh. Having decided on this
first step, he hurried on board his craft, desirous to
escape possible recognition by his victim; for, if recognized
by him, he feared that an excitement might be
raised, and that his vessel would be detained. He,
therefore, resolved to keep out of the way, leaving
Vique to act.

In an hour the young emissary returned from the
coffee-house, and reported that it was thought the
sloop would not get sail until late the next day.

`Then have I time to arrange my plans,' he said,
with energy. `Vique.'

`Señor.'

`I have a service for you. Do it faithfully, and you
shall have one hundred pesos.

`Bueno!' answered the handsome but villainous
looking young Spaniard, his black eyes shining at the
proffer.

`I have a desire to get into my possession a young
midshipman, who belongs to the Augusta sloop-of-war.
Towards evening, I shall drop down and anchor
nigh her, so and in such a position that the current
of the ebb tide will set from her towards me. In the
mean while, you must, in some way, manage, ere night,
to get on board the sloop in one of her boats. Once
there, you must try and get to speak to this midshipman
aside. Tell him, privately, that if he would hear
news from one he has been long separated from, he
must manage secretly to let himself down into a boat,
which he will find under the lee counter, which will
take him on board the shallop he sees near, where he
will hear news from his sister.'

`This will hardly induce him to risk so much,
Señor.'

`Do not fear. Repeat to him the words I have
taught you, and I will answer for him, that you will
find it hard to keep him within the bounds of due
caution. Tell him this intelligence will be given
only on the pledge that he withholds his intention
from all on board. Assure him that the least attempt
to betray you, to make you tell your secret there, will
defeat forever his wishes! Now go, and be prompt
and discreet.'

`The name of this midshipman, Señor?'

`I know not what name he goes by, now. Doubtless
he is called Henry or Harry; but of this I will
not be sure. He is about seventeen years of age,
with chestnut hair glossy and curling, brown eyes, large
and expressive, and rather handsome. It is the same
one who was on shore this morning in pursuit of two

deserters. This fact will be a sufficient guide to you.
Now, take the boat and depart.'

It was an hour past noon, and three hours after
Vique left the shallop on this expedition, that a boat's
crew came to the quay in the first cutter of a man-of-war.
Rogers was in command of her, but Harry was
also in the stern sheets. The crew landed and proceeded
to load the forward part of the barge with provisions
and parcels, that were lying upon the quay
ready. Among the crew was a young, good-looking
Spanish sailor, neatly clad, who was cheerfully volunteering
his assistance to the men in getting the heavier
parcels on board. He spoke broken English very
amusingly, laughed, cracked jokes, and, altogether,
made himself and the old tars very merry at their
work.

`I say, my lad, how should you like to ship,' asked
Rogers; `we have lost three men to-day, and I think
you will do.'

`I will ship for good wages, Señor,' answered Vique,
who was quite a different looking person, in his neat
blue jacket, shining tarpaulin, and white duck trowsers,
from what he was in his broad palm hat, red
striped shirt, and green plaid gingham pants, shortened
half up to his knee and trimmed with a fringe!

`You shall have twelve pesos.'

`Bueno! I will ship, then.'

`Where is your chest?'

`It is at a café, in Calle San Pedro.'

`Well, the boat will be ashore again before sundown.
Go and get your chest here, and we will then

carry you on board. He will make a good hand,
Harry.'

`Yes,' answered Carneil, `I am glad to get one to
make up for the two that escaped from me. But once
let the men get inside of these pulperias, they are
safe.'

The boat put off to the ship, leaving Vique standing
upon the quay. His eye followed the figure of
Harry till it was lost to it. He then turned away, satisfied
that he had discovered in him the person Ingles
alluded to; for he had not only heard him repeatedly
named by Rogers, in speaking to him, but he perfectly
answered the description; and Vique also heard him
confess he had lost two men he was in pursuit of.
As there was yet some hours to sunset, he returned to
the shallop, and reported his success thus far. He
remained on board until the anchor was weighed, and
she was under weigh to drop down towards the sloop,
when he left her by springing on board a vessel that
lay at the dock, as the skipper steered close to her, and
brushed by her for the purpose.

We have already seen the shallop take up her position
near the Augusta. Vique hastened to the quay,
but too late. He found the cutter had just gone. He
knew it would be the last boat that day from her.
While he was hesitating what to do, a boat came to
the landing, the seamen of which he knew to belong
to the American service. He inquired of the coxswain,
who told him she was the first cutter of a clipper-schooner.
On learning that the schooner lay near the
sloop, he told him his story and the coxswain bade
him get into the boat, if the officer they came for was

willing. This officer, a passed midshipman, and acting
lieutenant on board the clipper, at this moment
made his appearance, and permitted him to go in the
boat.

But on reaching the schooner, the officer told Vique
to come on board, that he was more needed there than
in the sloop, and that Rogers must find another man.
Vique silently submitted; but resolved to swim to
the sloop in the night. Suspecting this, the officer
ordered him below, for he had noticed his reluctance
at the first to get on board. He was therefore in the
schooner, when she got under weigh with Forrestal
and Harry. Ingles, finding from Harry's cry and act
that he had been recognized, and dreading the consequences,
had instantly got under weigh, ignorant of
Vique's situation, but leaving all, to effect his own
escape.