Читать книгу Wrecked on Spider Island; Or, How Ned Rogers Found the Treasure - Otis James - Страница 5

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Meanwhile Ned was positive that everything had been arranged satisfactorily.

It never came into his mind that Mr. Stout might think it in the highest degree unsafe for a boy to be possessed of a secret which could send him and the captain to prison for a long term. His only idea was that in case the brig was scuttled he would be in no danger, and this was sufficient for the time being.

There was no occasion for him to leave his room, therefore he had no intimation he had been made a prisoner, and lay down to sleep with not a care on his mind, save, possibly, whether he should succeed in pleasing the captain as well on the following day as during the one just passed.

Matters would have worn a very different complexion to him had it been possible to have overheard the conversation which Mr. Stout had with the captain in the latter’s room about midnight, when the second mate went on deck.

The master of the Evening Star was wrapped in a slumber superinduced by frequent draughts from the liquor bottle, and his chief officer had some difficulty in awakening him.

“What’s the matter?” he cried in alarm when finally it was possible for the visitor to make his presence known. “Anything wrong?”

“Not with the brig; but there’s some one aboard who must be attended to mighty quick if you count on carrying out the plan we spoke about the other night.”

“What do you mean?”

“There was a listener while we were talkin’ in the pantry.”

“Who?” and now fear caused the captain to be very wide awake.

“The boy. He can hear even a whisper from the pantry while lying in his berth. I tried the experiment a little while ago, an’ know that not a word could have escaped him.”

“And he heard what I said?”

“That’s the size of it. He came to ask me not to leave him behind when the brig was scuttled, an’ you can fancy what a turn it gave me. He didn’t seem to think it anything out of the way to tell the whole story, an’ I’ve taken the precaution of lockin’ him in his room.”

“That was right. He must fall overboard before daylight, or we shall stand a good chance of going to jail if we ever show up on shore again.”

“Now don’t talk foolishness,” Stout replied impatiently. “In the first place, I won’t have murder committed; it’s bad enough to scuttle a vessel. Then, again, it couldn’t be done without some of the crew knowing about it, and even if they simply had suspicions the loss of the brig immediately after the boy was silenced would show up the whole matter.”

“But what shall we do?”

“That’s what I don’t know. All I can say is as to what mustn’t be done an’ leave you to figger out the rest.”

The captain was silent for fully a minute, and then said abruptly:

“I wish you’d bring the bottle in here; I need something to clear my head a bit.”

Mr. Stout obeyed at once, and when he returned the master of the brig had seen a way out of what promised to be a very serious difficulty.

“We’ll soon settle him, and I’ll answer for it that the crew will be glad enough to help us.”

“What is the scheme?”

“Keep him a close prisoner from now out. Say that we have discovered he has some contagious disease——”

“But anybody with half an eye can see he’s well and hearty.”

“There are plenty of things which can be hatched up. Say leprosy; that will startle every man jack, I’ll go bail.”

“Then what? We can’t leave him on board when the brig goes down.”

“How thick-headed you are to-night, Stout! Take a drink to brighten you up. Suppose the men believe he’s a leper? The result will be that they’ll insist on our setting him ashore, as we should do in case he was really afflicted with the disease. We can land him on some small key, and the matter will be settled.”

“But he’ll talk all the same when he gets back.”

“If he ever does.”

“Then it is really murder you are thinking of!”

“Not a bit of it! We’ll simply maroon him, with plenty of grub, and trust to chance for the rest. We’ll make Spider Key for the first land, and once he is there I’ll guarantee he stays.”

“But I don’t fancy the idea of such a thing as that,” Mr. Stout replied thoughtfully. “It is different, this scuttlin’ a vessel for the purpose of doin’ the insurance companies, while to maroon a boy is very much the same as puttin’ a knife into him, and perhaps more cruel.”

“Look here, Stout, it is too late for you to be squeamish. He has heard the plan and knows you agreed to it. Once his story has been told on shore, even if we back out now and put the brig into port, the cargo can be examined, and it’s good-by for you and I. Death wouldn’t be half so bad in my eyes as ten or fifteen years in jail, and that’ll be the size of it if he’s allowed to run around with our secret.”

“I s’pose you’re right,” the mate replied with a sigh; “but it’s mighty tough for the poor little fellow, all the same.”

“Not so much so as it would be for us. I’ll see to it that he has enough in the way of grub and weapons to keep him going for a year, and at the end of that time it won’t do much harm if he should tell the yarn.”

One would have said from the expression on the captain’s face that he felt certain Ned would not be alive at the end of a year; but the mate was willing to soothe his conscience with the thought that he might find some means of escaping from the key, and thus the matter was settled.

It only remained to decide upon the room which should answer for Ned’s prison until he could be sent ashore, and Mr. Stout said:

“I reckon we may as well leave him where he is, eh?”

“By no manner of means. Didn’t you say he could hear all that was said in the pantry?”

“Yes; but what of that? We needn’t go there to talk any more.”

“You’re still thick-headed, Stout. If he can hear so plainly, what’s to prevent him from chinning with some of the crew or the steward? It’s a chance we mustn’t take, for if we give out that he’s a leper and he manages to tell one of them that he was never away from the State of Maine in his life, there would likely be a very big question as to the truth of our statement.”

“Then the only vacant room is the one next to mine.”

“Exactly. We’ll put him there and leave the crew to say what shall be done with him. I’m ’way off my reckoning if they don’t insist on his going ashore the first chance. When that has been done we’ll make a big show of burning the bedding, and the thing is over.”

“Very well, sir, I shall have to give in that you can handle this matter better than I. Now, if you’ll take care of the balance of the job it’ll be a big weight off my mind. I couldn’t face that boy, knowin’ what we’re goin’ to do, without standin’ a chance of givin’ the whole snap away.”

“Leave it to me; I’ll attend to everything, and you shan’t see him again till the day we take him on shore.”

Mr. Stout went to his own room after this promise; but it is safe to say that his sleep was neither sweet nor refreshing.

Two hours later Ned was awakened by a heavy hand laid on his shoulder, and as he raised his head the captain’s voice was heard.

“I want you to shift rooms, lad. The carpenter is going to make some changes here, and you’ll lose the best part of the night’s rest if you try to stay.”

The words were spoken in the most friendly of tones, and Ned, wondering not a little why it was the master of the Evening Star had suddenly grown so kind, hastily dressed himself.

Captain Bragg stood in the doorway until he was ready, and then led him to the room adjoining the chief mate’s, saying as he opened the door:

“It ain’t a bad swap for you to make, my son. We keep this for passengers because it is so big, and don’t usually count on givin’ it up to one of the crew; but it seems necessary in this case. You needn’t try to turn out early in the mornin’; I shan’t have a regular meal served till the repairs are made, so lay in bed as long as you please.”

Then the captain closed the door, locking it so gently that the turning of the key could not be heard, and Ned undressed himself again in a perfect maze of bewilderment.

The captain’s excessive kindness caused wonderment not unmixed with fear, for he remembered what Mr. Stout had said the day previous when the gentleman was so affable.

“There’s no need for me to fuss about it,” he said after trying in vain to fancy some good reason for this almost affectionate manner. “Of course he don’t want me to do anything for him, else he’d asked with his fist. Perhaps he’s been drinkin’ too much, an’ I’d better turn out the same time as usual.”

This last supposition seemed the most reasonable, and, believing he had hit upon the true cause for the change of demeanor, he devoted his entire attention to sleep.

At what time Ned awakened next morning he was unable to say; but it seemed quite late when he opened his eyes, and jumping quickly from the berth, began to dress hurriedly as he muttered to himself:

“I reckon I shall have to walk mighty straight this morning, for the captain will be crosser than a bear.”

After making a hurried toilet he attempted to go into the saloon, and, to his great surprise, found the door was locked.

It did not seem possible at first that such could be the case; but after trying in vain for several moments to open it, he was forced to admit he was a prisoner.

“Some one has turned the key, not knowing I was in here,” he thought, and then began to pound on the door in order to attract attention.

It was not necessary to do this many seconds before succeeding in his purpose, and he heard the captain’s voice from the outside:

“If you don’t keep quiet I’ll break every bone in your body!” came in low, but angry tones.

“But the door has got locked somehow.”

“I did that myself. You’ll stay where you are till I make up my mind what shall be done with you.”

“But why am I kept here?”

“You’ll find out soon enough. Behave yourself, and there’ll be no harm done; but if I hear so much as a single yip, you’ll know what the cat tastes like.”

Then all was silent once more, and Ned literally staggered back to the bunk, trying in vain to understand the meaning of this very strange performance.

He could think of nothing he had done or neglected to do which would warrant such treatment, and after studying over the perplexing matter until his head swam, he lay down again.

An hour later the door of his room was opened, and the captain entered, bringing a supply of food.

“Here’s enough to eat and drink till morning,” he said gruffly as he placed the tray on a locker. “Take hold and enjoy yourself as much as you can, for this terrible thing isn’t any fault of yours.”

“What do you mean?” Ned cried. “What have I done?”

“Nothing, lad; but the men are not willing to have you around.”

“The men!” Ned repeated in bewilderment. “What can they have against me?”

“They’re afraid of catching the disease, and I can’t say I blame them.”

“But I ain’t sick.”

“Do you mean to tell me you didn’t know you had the leprosy?” and the captain now appeared to be thoroughly surprised.

“Have I?” and Ned in turn evinced astonishment.

“There’s no question about it. If I had noticed you more carefully the day you came on board, I should have known what the trouble was. Now it will be necessary to stay here quietly until we can set you ashore where there’s a hospital, for you need immediate care.”

Ned was so bewildered that he did not question the man further; but threw himself on the bunk once more, entirely at a loss to understand anything in regard to the matter, save that the crew had suddenly grown afraid of him.

“You must keep very quiet,” the captain continued. “Don’t exert yourself by moving around, and I will see you have everything that’s needed until we put you on shore, which will be by to-morrow, or the next day at the latest.”

Then the master of the Evening Star left the room, locking the door behind him, and Ned tried in vain to realize his position.

After a time he remembered that he had not asked the captain what leprosy was, and examined his face in the glass to see such evidences of sickness as would warrant people in being afraid of him.

His skin seemed of a healthy color, and he asked himself if he felt ill in any way; but without receiving a satisfactory answer.

“I can’t make out that I’m different from what I always was; but there must be something wrong, or the captain wouldn’t act so awful good.”

Since he was not sensible of being an invalid, and had a very clear idea he felt hungry, there appeared to be no good reason why he should not partake of the plentiful supply of food which had been brought.

He made a hearty meal, and then lay down again as he muttered to himself:

“All I can say is that it ain’t very bad to be sick with leprosy, for I feel first class, an’ oughter be willin’ to stay here a long while if they feed me up in this shape.”

During the day he slept considerable, but during the night was more wakeful. Now and then it was possible to hear the hum of voices from the cabin; but he could not distinguish the words, and, from the “heel” of the vessel, knew she was reeling off the knots in fine shape.

When another day dawned and the rays of the sun, coming through the port-hole, lighted up the tiny apartment, he expected to see the captain with a second supply of food; but the hours passed on, and his door remained locked.

Then came the thought that perhaps they were making preparations to scuttle the vessel, and he would be left behind to drown.

The chance of this seemed so great that he had made up his mind to pound on the door in order to attract attention, despite the threats of the captain, when that gentleman entered.

“Well, my lad,” he began in a cheery tone, “I am glad for you that it won’t be necessary to stay here many minutes longer.”

“Have you found out that there is nothing the matter with me?” Ned cried eagerly.

“I wish I had; but there’s no such good luck as that. We are off Spider Key now; the brig will soon be hove-to, and you are to go ashore. I’m sorry we couldn’t fetch up on the other side of the island where the village is, but, under the circumstances, you won’t mind walking a couple of miles. We shall give you enough so there’ll be no chance of wanting anything, even though you should stay here a year, and when it comes right down to facts, you’ll be better off than if you remained on board.”

“Will I have any trouble in findin’ the village?”

“Not a bit. Walk straight across till you come to it.”

Ned was satisfied. He had had so many hard rubs in his life that this being set ashore did not surprise him, and the fact that he would have enough to keep him for a year seemed like a wonderful show of generosity on the captain’s part.

Just then the tramp of feet overhead, mingled with cries of command, told that the brig was coming up into the wind.

Captain Bragg went to the companion-way a mo—and then returned with Mr. Stout.

“Are you going ashore with me?” Ned asked in glad surprise.

“Yes: the men backed out from the job, an’ since somebody must do it, I allowed you’d rather it would be me.”

“Indeed I had,” Ned replied, and if he entertained any suspicions previously, they were dispelled now the one man on board whom he considered a friend was to accompany him as far as the shore.

The captain enveloped the boy in a rubber coat which partially hid his face, saying as he did so:

“You should be careful about taking cold. There’s a damp wind comes off the water, and it’s best to keep your face well covered until you are in the hospital.”

Ned, now firmly convinced that the master of the Evening Star was his very good friend, obeyed orders to the letter, and Mr. Stout led him on deck.

The brig was hove-to off a low-lying, sandy island about half a mile away, and a more desolate-looking place could not well be imagined.

Far down on the opposite shore was something dark which might be a clump of trees, otherwise there was not so much as a blade of grass in the way of vegetation.

The boat was alongside, and, standing well forward, as if afraid of having the leper pass them, were the crew, looking very much disturbed.

“You can see how frightened they are of you,” Mr. Stout said in a low tone. “It was all the captain an’ I could do to prevent them from setting you adrift in one of the boats.”

“How funny it is that they should have got scared when I look the same’s I ever did.”

“But you don’t, my lad. There’s a big change in your appearance since you come aboard.”

“I feel jest the same, anyway.”

“Yes, folks with that disease always do; but come on, we must get to the island as quick as we can, or the brig may go on without me.”

“I wish you was goin’ to stay ashore too.”

Ned was clambering over the rail as he said this, consequently did not see an expression of what was very like fear which passed over the mate’s face, and it seemed impossible for him to make any reply.

On stepping into the boat Ned noticed a number of packages in sail-cloth, and asked what they were.

“Provisions an’ sich like as you may need while stoppin’ here. The captain tells me he has given you a first-class outfit, large enough to keep you like a prince for a year.”

While speaking Mr. Stout had begun to row toward the shore, and when they were so far from the brig that his words could not be overheard by the captain, who was watching them from the quarter-deck, he said as he motioned with his foot toward a small bundle which lay under the stern-sheets:

“I found a lot of fish-lines, a pocket knife, an’ a quantity of matches in my room this mornin,’ so I put ’em aboard thinkin’ they might come in handy for you.”

“What would I want with such things if I’m goin’ to the hospital?” Ned asked in surprise.

“Is that where you’re bound for?” the mate inquired, and now it was his turn to show astonishment.

“Of course. Didn’t the captain tell you?”

“I ain’t certain as he did. I’ve been pretty busy on deck since you was taken sick, an’ haven’t had much chance to talk with him.”

“But I haven’t been taken sick. Captain Bragg says I’ve got leprosy; but that’s all.”

Mr. Stout acted very much as if he did not care to prolong the conversation.

He rowed as rapidly as possible with his head half-turned, as if to avoid looking the boy in the face, and pretended not to hear when Ned asked relative to the location of the village.

When the bow of the boat grated on the sand he leaped ashore and began pulling out the packages with feverish haste, while Ned, throwing off the rubber coat because of the heat, leisurely stepped on the land.

Ned Watches the Mate Row Back to the Ship.—Page 49.

In a very few seconds Mr. Stout was ready to return to the brig, and stopped as if to shake hands with Ned; but evidently changed his mind, for instead of so doing he leaped in the craft.

“Perhaps I’ll see you when we come back,” he cried, and then pulled at the oars with all his strength, keeping his eyes fixed on the bottom of the boat to shut out from view the boy who stood at the very edge of the water, gazing after the man whom he believed to be his friend.