The Bravest of the Brave or, with Peterborough in Spain. Henty George Alfred
true that the vessels in which the expedition was being carried belonged to the royal navy; but even here the discipline was but lax. There were many good sailors on board; but the bulk of the crew had been pressed into the service as harshly and tyrannically as were the soldiers themselves, and the grumblers of one class found ready sympathizers among the others.
The captain was a young man of good family who had obtained his appointment solely by interest, and who, although he would have fought his ship bravely in an action with the enemy, took but little interest in the regular work, leaving such matters entirely in the hands of his first lieutenant. The military officers were all new to their work. On shore they had had the support which the presence of a considerable number of veteran troops in garrison in the castle gave them; but they now ceased to struggle against the difficulty of keeping up discipline among a large number of raw and insubordinate recruits, relying upon bringing them into order and discipline when they got them ashore in a foreign country. Beyond, therefore, a daily parade, and half an hour’s drill in the handling of their firelocks, they interfered but little with the men.
Sergeant Edwards with twenty of his men had at the last minute, to Jack’s great satisfaction, been drafted into the regiment, and accompanied them on their voyage.
“Ay, they are a rough lot,” the sergeant said in answer to an observation of Jack as to the grumbling of the men after they had been at sea a few days; “but what can you expect when you take men from their homes against their will, pick out the worst characters in each town, make up their number with jail birds, and then pack them off to sea before they have got into shape? There’s nothing tries men more than a sea voyage. Here they are packed up as close as herrings, with scarcely room to move about, with nothing to do, and with food which a dog would turn up his nose to eat. Naturally they get talking together, and grumbling over their wrongs till they work themselves up.
“I wish the voyage was over. It wouldn’t matter if we had a good steady old crew, but more than half of them have been pressed; many of them are landsmen who have been carried off just as you were. No doubt they would all fight toughly enough if a Frenchman hove in view, but the captain couldn’t rely on them in a row on board. As long as the fleet keeps together it’s all right enough. Here are nine vessels, and no one on board one knows what’s going on in the others, but if the captain of any one of them were to hoist a signal that a mutiny had broken out on board, the others would be round her with their portholes opened ready to give her a dose of round shot in no time.”
“But you don’t think that it is really likely that we shall have any trouble, sergeant?”
“There won’t be any trouble if, as I am telling you, the weather holds fine and the fleet keeps together; but if there’s a gale and the ships get scattered, no one can’t say what might come of it.”
“I can’t think how they could be so mad as to get up a mutiny,” Jack said; “why, even supposing they did take the ship, what would they do with it?”
“Them’s questions as has been asked before, my lad, and there’s sense and reason in them, but you knows as well as I that there’s many a craft sailing the seas under the black flag. There isn’t a ship as puts to sea but what has half a dozen hands on board who have been in slavers, and who are full of tales of islands where everything grows without the trouble of putting a spade in the ground, where all sorts of strange fruit can be had for the picking, and where the natives are glad enough to be servants or wives, as the case may be, to whites. It’s just such tales as these as leads men away, and I will warrant there’s a score at least among the crew of the Caesar who are telling such tales to any who will listen to them. Well, you see, it’s a tempting story enough to one as knows no better. On the one side there is a hard life, with bad food and the chance of being shot at, and the sartainty of being ordered about and not being able to call your life your own. On the other side is a life of idleness and pleasure, of being your own master, and, if you want something which the islands can’t afford you, why, there’s just a short cruise and then back you come with your ship filled up with plunder. I don’t say as it’s not tempting; but there’s one thing agin it, and the chaps as tells these yarns don’t say much about that.”
“What is it, sergeant?”
“It’s just the certainty of a halter or a bloody grave sooner or later. The thing goes on for some time, and then, when merchant ship after merchant ship is missing, there are complaints at home, and out comes a ship or two with the queen’s pennant at the head, and then either the pirate ship gets caught at sea and sunk or captured, or there’s a visit to the little island, and a short shrift for those found there.
“No, I don’t think it can pay, my lad, even at its best. It’s jolly enough for awhile, maybe, for those whose hearts are so hard that they think nothing of scuttling a ship with all on board, or of making the crew and passengers walk the plank in cold blood. Still even they must know that it can’t last, and that there’s a gallows somewhere waiting for them. Still, you see, they don’t think of all that when a chap is atelling them of these islands, and how pleasant the life is there, and how easy it would be to do for the officers, and take the command of the ship and sail away. Two or three chaps as makes up their mind for it will poison a whole crew in no time.”
“You speak as if you knew all about it.”
“I know a good deal about it,” the sergeant replied gravely. “It’s a tale as there ain’t many as knows; but you are a sort of lad as one can trust, and so I don’t mind if I tell it you. Though you wouldn’t think it, I have sailed under the black flag myself.”
“You, sergeant!” Jack exclaimed incredulously; “do you mean to say you have been a pirate?”
“Just that, my boy. I don’t look like it, do I? There ain’t nothing buccaneering about my cut. I looks just what I am, a tough old sergeant in a queen’s regiment; but for all that I have been a pirate. The yarn is a long one, and I can’t tell it you now, because just at present, you see, I have got to go below to look after the dinners of the company, but the first time as we can get an opportunity for a quiet talk I will tell it you. But don’t you go away and think till then as I was a pirate from choice. I shouldn’t like you to think that of me; there ain’t never no saying at sea what may happen. I might tumble overboard tonight and get drowned, or one of the convoy might run foul of us and sink us, and tomorrow you might be alive and I might be dead, and I shouldn’t like you to go on thinking all your life as that Sergeant Edwards had been a bloody pirate of his own free will. So you just bear in mind, till I tells you the whole story, as how it was forced upon me. Mind, I don’t say as how I hadn’t the choice of death or that, and maybe had you been in my place you would have chosen death; but, you see, I had never been brought up as you were. I had had no chances to speak of, and being only just about your age, I didn’t like the thought of dying, so you see I took to it, making up my mind secret at the same time that the first chance I had I would slip away from them. I won’t tell you more now, I hain’t time; but just you bear that in mind, in case of anything happening, that if Sergeant Edwards once sailed under the black flag, he didn’t do it willing.”
The sergeant now hurried below, leaving Jack wondering over what he had heard. Some days elapsed before the story was told, for a few hours later the sky clouded over and the wind rose, and before next morning the vessel was laboring heavily under double reefed topsails. The soldiers were all kept below, and there was no possibility of anything like a quiet talk. The weather had hitherto been so fine and the wind so light that the vessels had glided over the sea almost without motion, and very few indeed of those on board had experienced anything of the usual seasickness; but now, in the stifling atmosphere between decks, with the vessel rolling and plunging heavily, the greater part were soon prostrate with seasickness, and even Jack, accustomed to the sea as he was, succumbed to the unpleasantness of the surroundings.
On the second day of the storm Sergeant Edwards, who had been on deck to make a report to the captain of the company, was eagerly questioned on his return below on the condition of the weather.
“It’s blowing about as hard as it can be,” he said, “and she rolls fit to take the masts out of her. There don’t seem no chance of the gale breaking, and none of the other ships of the fleet are in sight. That’s about all