Читать книгу The Third Officer: A Present-day Pirate Story - Westerman Percy Francis - Страница 7

After four days and four nights of captivity, during which period the Donibristle had covered about 600 miles, the engines ceased their steady throb, and the prisoners heard the muffled roar of a chain-cable running through the hawse-pipe.

Speculation was rife as to where the captured merchantman had brought-up, while the majority of the captives expressed an opinion that, provided they found themselves in the open air, the locality of the anchorage didn't very much matter just at present. After nearly a hundred hours of close confinement, fed on meagre and monotonous fare, unwashed and unkempt, they welcomed the prospect of a change.

Their guards, too, had been removed. Evidently the pirates were now satisfied that the prisoners were no longer in a position to cause trouble; while in support of that theory a half-caste South American appeared and unbolted the dead-lights.

The flow of pure, balmy air through the now opened scuttles was like a draught of the sweetest nectar to the jaded and dishevelled men. There was a rush to see where the ship was lying, until at every scuttle two or three people were simultaneously trying to look out.

The Donibristle was lying in a circular and apparently completely landlocked harbour surrounded by tall cliffs. Further examination revealed a narrow gap, which, in turn, was fronted on the seaward side by a lofty ridge of rock, which, harmonizing with the cliffs of the island, presented at first sight an appearance of continuity. The cliffs were so high and close to the water's edge that from the Donibristle it was impossible to see what lay beyond – whether the ground rose to a still greater height, whether it was wooded or otherwise, or whether the island was of large or small extent.

About two cables away lay the Malfilio, also at anchor, while closer in shore were two vessels that Burgoyne rightly concluded were the ill-fated Alvarado and Kittiwake. A few sailing craft, bêche de mer traders seized by the pirates, were also to be seen, some of them lying aground with a heavy list.

It was now close on sunset. The tranquil waters of the harbour were shrouded in deepening shadow, while the horizontal rays of the setting sun bathed the summit of the eastern cliffs in a glint of reddish gold. Beyond that serrated line of sun-bathed cliff the sky was broken by three thin columns of smoke rising slowly in the still air.

"It's a snug berth at all events," observed Burgoyne, with a sailor's unerring instinct for a safe harbour. "But it would puzzle a stranger to find his way in."

"Will they set us ashore to-night, do you think?" asked Colonel Vivian.

Before Alwyn could reply the door was thrown open, and the engineer officers of both watches entered. That was a sign that their work in the engine-room was finished.

In the dim light no one noticed that Withers was not with them, but that instead there was a stranger, a tall, slender fellow of almost Withers's height and build, rigged out in the company's uniform, and with the peaked cap raked jauntily over the left eye. And until the "fellow" went straight up to the Colonel and took hold of his hands, even Burgoyne failed to recognize Hilda Vivian.

"We couldna let the wee lassie bide there," declared Angus apologetically, as if he were ashamed of having brought her along. "An' ye ken fine why."

"And where's Withers?" asked Burgoyne.

The old Scot shook his head.

"A' would do it," he declared, and went on to explain that the Second Engineer had insisted in donning a fireman's boiler-suit and giving his uniform to Miss Vivian.

"An' in the gloamin' they'll no ken the difference," he concluded.

"So far so good," soliloquized Alwyn. "But in daylight there may be quite a different story. The rascals have seen Withers and the other fellow going in and out of the engine-room. They'll twig a strange officer in a trice, I'm afraid."

But a glance at Hilda convinced him that running the risk had its compensations. The girl, even in her sorrow at her mother's death, was happy at being reunited to her father – her sole surviving relative. Clearly she was taking little or no thought for the morrow.

When it became a practically assured fact that the prisoners were to remain on board at least another night, there was general activity on the part of all the able-bodied men, with one exception, to fix up Miss Vivian in her new quarters. Willing hands quickly cleared out – it could not truthfully be said "cleaned out" – one of the cabins for her use, making far less fuss about having to sleep uncomfortably crowded than they had when they had fifteen hundred cubic feet more space.

The exception was Jules Miles, the Canuk bagman. At daybreak the survivors of the Donibristle's original crew were ordered on deck. Evidently the pirates were in a desperate hurry, for the Malfilio was lying with steam raised ready to proceed to sea. During the night she had coaled, receiving her coal from the captured Alvarado.

So, without even the formality of a search, the prisoners were sent ashore, the wounded being carried in strips of canvas cut from discarded awnings.

The undamaged boats of the Alvarado were employed to convey the prisoners from the Donibristle to the beach, and in consequence the journey was a painful one for the wounded.

But in the hasty performance of the operations Hilda Vivian escaped detection, and once again Burgoyne, in his capacity of senior unwounded officer, thanked Heaven that so far the villainous pirates had so far failed to penetrate the deception. Incidentally he was thankful that the prisoners had had no opportunity to wash during their four days incarceration. Their faces were black with the grime of battle, and thus Hilda Vivian was furnished with an additional disguise.

On landing, the Donibristle's crew were formed up in a hollow square, with armed guards patrolling the outer face of the formation. Here they were kept in suspense for more than a quarter of an hour, until the arrival of the pirate captain, Don Ramon Porfirio, attended by his lieutenants, Pablo Henriques and Black Fritz Strogoff.

Ramon Porfirio was a Bolivian by birth, but had spent most of his time since the age of sixteen in various seaports of Chili and Peru. He was about thirty-five years of age, of medium height, and inclined to corpulence. His features were remarkable, his face being round and flabby; but instead of the broad short nose usually associated with this type of countenance his nasal organ was very pronounced, and beaked like a parrot's. His hair, bluish black and liberally oiled, hung a good six inches below the back of his gilt-braided cap. With the exception of closely-cropped side-whiskers he was clean shaven, although the bluish tint of the lower part of his face pointed clearly to the fact that he had not renewed his acquaintance with the razor that morning.

The pirate captain was rigged out in the undress uniform of an admiral of the Imperial Russian Navy. The tarnished buttons still displayed the double-headed eagle of the Romanoffs; the salt-stained blue coat was considerably the worse for wear. Burgoyne found himself wondering what had been the fate of the original wearer of the uniform, and by what roundabout way it had come into the possession of Ramon Porfirio.

Pablo Henriques requiring no further introduction, it will be necessary only to portray the third pirate officer, "Black" Fritz Strogoff.

He was short in stature, being only about five feet four inches, and grotesquely broad in proportion to his height. He had hardly any neck, literally speaking, although figuratively he possessed plenty. His features were swarthy, while by a curious contrast his hair was of a light straw colour. In point of age he was the eldest of the three. Although the date of his birth was unknown to him, he was fond of announcing that he entered the University of Dorpat in 1893; so, assuming him to be seventeen or eighteen at that time, he was now about forty-four or forty-five.

He could speak three languages fluently – Russian, German, and Spanish – and had a useful knowledge of English, French, and some of the dialects of Eastern Asia. In the days of the Russian Empire he had experienced the horrors of Siberia. During the war he had played no unimportant part in the intrigue between Soviet Russia and Germany. Not receiving what he deemed to be adequate reward from Lenin and Trotsky, he made his way, via Vladivostok, to one of the South American republics, where he came in contact with Ramon Porfirio.

It was Fritz Strogoff who engineered most of the latter's enterprises. He was the brains of the pirate organization, and while up to the present he was content to let Porfirio take precedence, he was merely awaiting a favourable opportunity of cutting his connection with the Malfilio, taking with him considerably more than the agreed share of the ill-gotten booty. He did not believe in playing too long with Fate.

Ramon Porfirio was literally the tool of his second lieutenant, although, with the arrogance of a Spaniard with a decided dash of Indian blood, he failed utterly to recognize Strogoff's influence. Of an imaginative, reckless, and hot-tempered disposition, he firmly believed that he was a leader of men, and a worthy successor to Morgan, Mansfield, and other famous buccaneers.

Beginning his career as a small public official at Lima, Porfirio soon found that existence was far too tame. He absconded, taking 20,000 dollars of public money, and found a temporary refuge in Chile. At Talcahuano he came in touch with German agents, who were at that time busily engaged in picking up news in order to keep von Spee informed of the movements of Craddock's squadron. At that time there was hardly such a thing as British propaganda, and Porfirio, through his German associates, was well primed with utterly erroneous ideas of the might of Britain's sea-power.

It was to the Huns at Talcahuano that he owed the thought of becoming a sea-corsair, and preying upon unprotected British shipping. The idea grew and took tangible form. After acquiring a smattering of the arts of seamanship and navigation, he felt confident enough to embark upon his career of piracy, but the difficulty was to find a vessel suitable to his pocket and his needs.

About this time he met Strogoff. Hinting at his ambition and his difficulties, Porfirio found, as he thought, a kindred spirit. Strogoff suggested that the Kamtchatkan port of Petropavlovsk would furnish the necessary vessel. It was about that time that Siberia succumbed to Bolshevism, and several Russian light cruisers and gunboats were lying at Petropavlovsk. Since it was hopeless for them to return either to the Black Sea or the Gulf of Finland, it was more than likely that an armed vessel might be acquired at a reasonable price.

Incidentally Strogoff mentioned that he knew of a secret naval base, situated in a remote island in the North Pacific. It had been prepared some years before the Great War for the use of the German squadron stationed in these waters, so that when "der Tag" dawned the Hun commerce-destroyers would have a base to operate from should Kiao-Chau prove useless – as it quickly did – to the squadron.

Fortunately, owing to the total destruction of von Spee's ships, and the transference of the Emden's and Königsburg's activities to the Indian Ocean, the secret base was not brought into operation. The garrison of German marines "stuck it" for nearly a twelvemonth in total ignorance of what was going on in the outside world. At length they abandoned the island, sailing, it was assumed, in a small vessel attached to the base. But no one in Germany or elsewhere ever heard more of the lost garrison, and the fate of that handful of Hun marines remains an unsolved mystery.

Enlisting the services of Pablo Henriques, master of a Chilian trading schooner, Porfirio and Strogoff, accompanied by a nucleus of half-castes of doubtful character, arrived at Petropavlovsk a few weeks before the port was due to be come icebound. Under hatches they carried six casks of wine, a quantity of woollen blankets, and two thousand dollars in gold. Before they reached the Kamtchatkan coast the cargo was augmented by booty forcibly removed from a couple of Kanaka-manned traders. The Kanakas were easily persuaded to become members of the pirate band.

The acquisition of the light cruiser Zarizyno was accomplished so easily that even Strogoff opened his eyes in astonishment. A Bolshevik official, Lipski by name, readily agreed to hand over the ship in exchange for the wine, blankets, and half the gold. He, too, had an eye for the main chance, and had no great faith in the stability of the Soviet Government. Moscow and Petrograd were thousands of miles away. Before Lenin and Trotsky could demand an account of his stewardship, Lipski would also be miles away, with his nest well feathered, to seek an asylum in Chicago, in the vast Slavonic family domiciled under the protection of the Stars and Stripes.

Augmenting their numbers by the enlistment of Chinese and Malay seamen, together with a handful of Slav desperadoes otherwise marooned in Petropavlovsk, Porfirio and his two lieutenants took the Zarizyno to sea. Slightly disguised by means of different funnel-markings, and given the name of Malfilio, she was taken to the secret base, where her active career as a pirate began.

On the island they found an abundance of Welsh steam-coal, tinned provisions, clothing, quick-firing guns, machine-guns, and rifles, with a large quantity of suitable ammunition in fair condition.

At first Porfirio was content to confine his activities to the capture of small trading vessels plying between Hawaii and the archipelagoes south of the line; then, becoming bolder, he directed his attention to bigger game.

The Kittiwake, his first big prize, was a comparatively easy capture. She furnished him mainly with flour consigned for Japan, where quite recently a large demand for wheat had arisen in place of rice, this demand being one of the causes of the shortage of flour in Europe.

The Kittiwake was taken without loss of life. Porfirio had rather shrunk from murder, owing to a mistaken idea on his part, communicated by his German friends at Talcahuano, that piracy without murder was not a hanging matter. Ramon had a strong objection to a hempen rope.

But with the capture of the Alvarado, which yielded a richer booty, his record for milk-and-water piracy ended. Nor did he know that the prize was a Yankee until he was in possession of her, and fifteen corpses lay in her scuppers.

Having crossed the Rubicon, he was less scrupulous in his methods, but he refrained from taking life except in actual fight, or for disregard of his orders on the part of his prisoners. To impress upon the survivors of the Donibristle his views on the subject, he had caused them to be formed up in a hollow square on the beach of the secret base.

Ramon Porfirio's knowledge of English being, to say the least, imperfect, he called upon Black Strogoff to address the assembly. This the Russian proceeded to do, his speech including a number of words and sentences of an academic nature interspersed with the vernacular of Wapping.

He informed the Donibristle's crew that they would be well treated if they behaved, and dealt with severely if they did not. They would have to work under their own officers. Failure to perform their allotted tasks would be punished by reduction of rations, solitary confinement, and in exceptional cases by death.

He also mentioned in an off-hand kind of way that there were vacancies in the crew of the Malfilio, vacancies which offered a life that would appeal to the adventurous, with prospects of becoming rich in a very short space of time. He did not propose to ask for volunteers at that moment (he knew that none would be forthcoming, although it was possible that later on some of the Donibristle's crew would secretly hand in their names) but he would be willing to consider applications in due course.

The men heard his appeal in stolid silence. The offer fell on deaf ears. They were "not having any". Ramon Porfirio would have to cast his net elsewhere to obtain his recruits.