A Desperate Voyage. E. F. Knight
and after lighting a fire in the stove to boil some water for coffee, he looked round the walls of the cabin. Among other valuables were a rifle, a revolver, a clock, and an aneroid; and Allen's gold watch and chain were hanging on a nail. "I can raise fifty pounds on these to begin with," he thought; "and now to see what there is in the lockers and cupboards." He rummaged everywhere; but, with the exception of the sextant, there was no article of any value that could be easily sold.
At last, in a small drawer, he found the barrister's money and papers. There were about twenty-five pounds in gold. There was also a cheque-book; and on turning over its pages, Carew found that Allen had made a note of the balance to his credit on the counterfoil of the last cheque he had drawn, showing that he had the sum of fifty pounds at his bank. Then the solicitor glanced at the yacht's Admiralty warrant, which authorised Arthur Allen to fly the blue ensign of Her Majesty's fleet on his yacht, the Petrel, of sixteen tons register; a most valuable privilege, as Carew knew, which would serve him as passport into whatever foreign port he should go.
He was not altogether satisfied with the result of his search, and, as he sat on the bunk sipping his coffee, the more he thought of his prospects the more gloomy they appeared to him. He felt that it would be very hazardous to attempt selling the yacht in Rotterdam. To do so would require time; and as it was the long vacation, and so many lawyers and others who knew him were taking their holidays, his recognition by someone in so favourite a haunt of tourists as the Dutch city would be a highly probable event. He dared not risk that. He must not stay in Holland a moment longer than was necessary. Then what could he do with so small a fund at his disposal?
His eye fell on the open drawer, and he rose to close it. He happened then to notice the barrister's diary among the papers, and though he did not imagine that there could be anything in it of the slightest interest to himself, he took it up in a casual way and opened it at the first page. Suddenly the indifferent look vanished, he started visibly, and read with intense eagerness. "Oh!" he cried, "now it is all plain sailing for me. I know what to do." A triumphant light came into his eyes, and then, putting away the diary, he ran on deck, let the foresheet draw, and as he steered the vessel on her course over the dancing waves, the expression of his face indicated a happy confidence in the future; all doubt and fear had fled.
The first page of the diary was devoted to memoranda; and, among other things, the barrister had here written a list of the investments from which he derived his income. The bulk of these consisted of foreign bonds and other easily negotiable securities, which Allen had deposited with his banker.
It was the perusal of this list that had suggested to the quick and ingenious mind of the solicitor a scheme not difficult of execution, the very thought of which made his heart beat quick with anticipation. Carew shrank from the peril of forging cheques or letters of instructions to Allen's bankers; but now that he knew exactly how the barrister's account stood, a simpler and safer method of appropriating to himself a large proportion at least of the dead man's fortune occurred to him.
Said this accomplished scoundrel to himself: "I have here a stout, seaworthy boat, that can easily take me across the Atlantic. I will ship a crew in Rotterdam, and sail for Buenos Ayres. By selling the watch and chain and one or two other little things I shall have enough money to buy stores and pay all other expenses of the voyage. Once in Buenos Ayres, I will go to the agent of the—— Bank. There is sure to be one. I will show him my papers. I will prove to his satisfaction that I am Arthur Allen, barrister-at-law, owner of the yacht Petrel. I will explain that I have run short of money, and require a considerable sum at once. The agent will telegraph to the bank, learn that I have there securities to a large amount, and then he will be ready to advance to me as much as I want; and I will want a good deal. I will say that I am about to buy land, or tell some such plausible tale, get my money, and away. Oh, most excellent plan! Who on earth is likely to suspect that the yachting barrister is no other than Henry Carew, the defaulting solicitor?"
He steered the vessel towards the Dutch coast, and soon the wind fell so much that he was able to shake out all his reefs.
At ten he passed through a large fleet of fishing boats that were riding to their nets. He hailed an English smack, asking her skipper if he could tell him his position.
"You'll get hold of the land in an hour or so," shouted the man; "and, as you are going now, you'll about fetch Goeree."
Carew, after consulting the chart, steered in a more northerly direction. At midday he saw the loom of the land ahead of him; so, as the sky was clear, he brought up the sextant and took an observation of the sun, thus ascertaining his exact position.
"Lucky it is that I taught myself navigation," he thought; "it will come in useful now."
At last he could plainly distinguish the features of the coast, which was low and flat, with white sand-hills here and there that gleamed like snow in the sunshine.
Then he saw a steeple, a lighthouse, and a group of cottages, with bright red roofs, and he knew that he was off the village of Scheveningen, which is a few miles to the north of the Maas. Sailing to the southward, he soon reached the mouth of the river, and at once some of the ever-watchful pilots pulled off to him in a small boat.
Carew hove the yacht to, and waited for them. The boat was soon alongside. Four little old men, all fat and rosy, were in her. One who understood English well was the spokesman. Standing up in the stern he shouted—
"Captain, you want pilot, sar?"
"Yes; how much do you want to take me to Rotterdam?"
Carew felt how necessary it was to husband his funds, and he suspected that Dutch pilots consider a yacht fair prey for extortion.
The man named an exorbitant sum.
"Nonsense! Too much. I'll sail her in myself."
"Right, captain," replied the Dutchman calmly; "that better for me and my mates. You try and go in alone, you sure to run ashore. Then we help you off, and you give us plenty money for salvage instead of small pilot-fee."
Carew felt that it might happen as the old man had said. The Maas is encumbered with shoals, and the navigation is difficult for a stranger.
"Now, how much you give me, captain?"
The solicitor mentioned a moderate sum.
"Ah, you rich man with yacht to be hard on poor pilot! Now, I pilot you for the middle price."
"Come on board, then," said Carew.
The pilot leapt on to the yacht's deck, and the other three pulled away in their boat.
"Now, captain. Tide in river running strong, wind is light; so we want all sail, or else we no move. Call up your hands and hoist topsail."
"There are no hands below. I am alone," replied Carew.
"Alone? What do you mean? You come from England all alone?" exclaimed the man in great astonishment.
"Yes; my crew got drunk and were insolent just before I sailed. They thought I could not do without them, and they knew I was in a hurry. But I put them all on shore without hesitation, and I have come across alone."
"You a very mad Englishman, but you a brave man. I never hear anything like that."
"Pilot," said Carew, later on, as they were sailing up the river, "I don't want to be followed about Rotterdam as if I were a curiosity; so I should like you not to mention the fact of my having sailed across the sea alone."
"All right, captain; my mouth close."
"I shall want a crew of two or three good, honest Dutchmen, pilot. Can you recommend me any men?"
"This very night you shall have one—my cousin Willem—a very good boy, captain."
"And there is another thing, pilot. What sort of a berth are you going to put me in in Rotterdam?"
"I will moor you along the Boompjees; nice quays them. Plenty good Schiedam shops on shore there. All yachts go there."
"I