Читать книгу Ran Away to Sea - Reid Mayne - Страница 10

Of course I did not give utterance to these sentiments before any of the Pandora’s crew. That would have led me into worse trouble than ever. Even Brace could not have protected me had I given expression to the disgust with which my new associates had inspired me, and I acted only with the ordinary instinct of prudence when I held my tongue and pretended not to notice those matters that were queer. Withal, I could not altogether dissemble. My face might have told tales upon me; for more than once I was taken to task by my ruffian companions, who jeered me for my scruples, calling me “green-horn,” “land-lubber,” “son of a gun,” “son of a sea-cook,” and other like contemptuous appellations, of which, among sailors, there is an extensive vocabulary. Had they known the full measure of contempt in which I had held them, they would scarce have been satisfied by giving me nicknames only. I should have had blows along with them; but I took care to hide the dark thoughts that were passing in my bosom.

I was determined, however, to have an explanation with Brace and ask his advice. I knew that I could trust him, but it was a delicate point; and I resolved to approach him with caution. He might be angry with me; for he, too, was engaged in the same nefarious companionship. He might be sensitive and reproach me for a meddler.

And yet I fancied he would not. One or two expressions I had heard him drop casually, had led me to the belief that Brace was tired of the life he was leading – that he, too, was discontented with such a lot; and that some harsh fate had conducted him into it. I hoped that it was so; for I had grown greatly interested in this fine man. I had daily evidence that he was far different from his associates, – not hardened and wicked as they. Though under the influence of association men gradually assume the tone of the majority, yet Brace had a will and a way of his own, – there was a sort of moral idiosyncracy about him that rendered him unlike the rest, and which he appeared to preserve, notwithstanding the constant contamination to which he was exposed by his companionship with such fellows. Observing this, I resolved to make known to him the cause of my wretchedness, and to obtain his advice as to how I should act.

An opportunity soon offered – a chance of conversing with him unheard by the rest of the crew.

There is a pleasant place out upon the bowsprit, particularly when the foretop-mast stay-sail is hauled down, and lying along the spar. There two or three persons may sit or recline upon the canvas, and talk over their secrets without much risk of being overheard. The wind is seldom dead ahead, but the contrary; and the voices are borne forward or far over the sea, instead of being carried back to the ears of the crew. A meditative sailor sometimes seeks this little solitude, and upon emigrant ships, some of the more daring of the deck-passengers often climb up there – for it requires a little boldness to go so high aloft over the water – and pour into one another’s ears the intended programme of their trans-oceanic life.

Brace had a liking for this place; and often about twilight he used to steal up alone, and sit by himself, either to smoke his pipe or give way to meditation.

I wished to be his companion, but at first I did not venture to disturb him, lest he might deem it an intrusion. I took courage after a time, and joined him upon his perch. I saw that he was not dissatisfied – on the contrary, he seemed pleased with my companionship.

One evening I followed him up as usual, resolved to reveal to him the thoughts that were troubling me.

“Ben!” I said, in the familiar style in which all sailors address each other. “Ben!”

“Well, my lad; what be it?”

He saw I had something to communicate, and remained attentively listening.

“What is this ship?” I asked after a pause.

“She a’n’t a ship at all, my boy – she be a barque.”

“But what is she?”

“Why, a’n’t I told you she be a barque.”

“But what sort, I want to know?”

“Why, in course, a regular rigged barque – ye see if she were a ship the mizen-mast yonder ’ud be carryin’ squares’ls aloft, which she don’t do as ye see – therefore she’s a barque and not a ship.”

“But, Ben, I know all that, for you have already explained to me the difference between a ship and a barque. What I wish to ascertain is what kind of a vessel she is?”

“Oh! what kind; that’s what you’re after. Well, then, I should say a faster sailer never set figure-head to the sea; she’s got just one fault, she be a little too crank for my liking, and pitches too much in a swell. If she’s not kept in plenty o’ ballast, I won’t wonder to see them masts walk overboard one of these days.”

“You won’t be offended at me, Ben; all this you’ve told me before – it is not what I wish to know.”

“An what the old scratch do you want to know? Be hanged, my lad, if you don’t puzzle me.”

“Answer me, Ben; tell me the truth. Is she a merchant vessel.”

“Oho! that’s what you’re driving at! Well, that depends upon what you may call a merchant vessel. There be many sorts o’ goods that comes under the name o’ merchandise. Some ships carry one sort, and some another.”

“What sort does the Pandora carry?” asked I, interrupting him.

As I put the question, I laid my hand gently upon the arm of the sailor, and looked earnestly in his face as I awaited his reply.

He hesitated for a moment, until he saw that he could not well evade giving me an answer, and then answered with the simple word – “Niggers.”

“It ’ud be no use playin’ hide and seek about it, lad. You must ’a found it out in time – the Pandora’s no merchantman – she be a trader – a regular slaver.”

“Oh, Ben,” I said, appealingly, “is it not a terrible life to lead?”

“Well, it’s not the life for you, my boy, and I’m sorry you’ve got into such hands. I saw you when you first comed aboard, and would have put a word in your ears, if I had got a chance; but the old shark nailed you afore I could get speaking to you. He wanted a boy and was determined to have you. When you comed the second time, I was below in my bunk, and in course you were brought off with us. No, little Will, it’s not the life for you, lad.”

“And for you, Ben?”

“Avast there, my youngster! Well, I won’t be angry with you, it’s but nat’ral you should think so. Maybe I’m not so bad as you think me.”

“I don’t think you bad, Ben; quite the contrary. It is for that reason I spoke as I did. I think you very different from the others. I – ”

“Maybe you’re right, boy; maybe not. I warn’t always bad. I was once like yourself and didn’t care for such as these; but there are tyrants in the world as makes men bad, and they’ve made me.”

Here the sailor paused and uttered a sigh, while an expression of extreme bitterness passed over his face; some harsh recollection was stirring within him.

“How, Ben?” I ventured to ask. “I cannot believe it. They may have made you unhappy, but not wicked. I know you are not.”

“You are kind, little Will, to say this to me. – You are very kind, my boy; you make me feel as I once did feel, and I’ll tell you all. Listen! and I’ll tell you all about it.”

There was a tear in the sailor’s eye, the first he had shed for many a long year. Upon his weather-bronzed face I observed a mingled expression of tenderness and sadness.

I placed myself to listen attentively.

“It’s a short story,” he continued, “and won’t take many words. I warn’t always what I am now. No, I was a man-o’-war’s-man for many a year, and, though I say it myself, there warn’t many in the service as knew their duty or did it better. But all that went for nothing. It was at Spithead – we were lying there with the fleet, and I chanced to run foul o’ the master’s-mate o’ our ship. It was all about a bit o’ lass that we met ashore, who was my sweetheart. He was a-makin’ too free with her, and my blood got up. I couldn’t help it, and I threatened him – only threatened him. There’s what I got for it. Look there, little Will!”

As the sailor finished speaking, he pulled off his jacket, and raised his shirt over his shoulder. I perceived across his back, and up and down, and in every direction, a complete network of long scars – the scars of old weals – which the “cats” had made upon his flesh.

“Now, my lad, you know why I’m driven to a ship like this. In course I desarted the navy, and afterwards tried it in the merchant-sarvice, but go where I would, I carried the Cain-mark along with me, and somehow or other it always came out, and I couldn’t stand it. Here I’m not the odd sheep in the flock. Among the fellows below there, there’s many a back as well striped as mine.”

Ben ceased speaking, and I, impressed with the brief history of his wrongs, remained for some time silent.

After awhile I again ventured to broach the subject that lay nearest my heart.

“But, Ben,” said I, “this is a horrid kind of life to lead; surely you do not intend to continue it?”

A shake of the head was all the answer I received.

“I could not endure it,” I continued; “I have resolved to make my escape whenever an opportunity offers. Surely you will aid me?”

“Both you and myself, lad.”

“Oh! I am so pleased.”

“Yes,” continued he, “I am tired of it, too. I have been thinking how I can leave it. This I’m determined shall be my last voyage – leastwise, in this trade. I’ve been thinking, my boy, of giving ’em the slip, and taking you along with me.”

“Oh, how glad I shall be – when may we go?”

“There lies the bother, my lad; you see there’s no place in all Africa where we could get off, or, if we did, it would only be to wander among these black savages, and likely enough get murdered by them. No; we can’t get clear of the Pandora this side the Atlantic. We must stick by her, and make the voyage; and on the far side we’ll manage it, I warrant you.”

“’Tis a long time to suffer.”

“You ain’t a-going to suffer – I’ll take care o’ that; but keep quiet, and don’t show that you are not contented enough – not a word to anybody about what’s been said this night, – not a word, my lad!”

I promised faithfully to observe the directions given, and, as Brace was now called to his watch upon deck, I went down along with him, feeling lighter at heart than I had done since I first set foot on board the Pandora.