The Cruise of the Frolic
The masts, and rigging, and sails, hung over the side; the former in their fall having carried away the bulwarks and smashed the boats. I saw before we got on board, that she had lost her masts with all sail set, in some unaccountably lubberly way it seemed. The sea had washed away some of her spare spars and the caboose, but she had apparently righted directly her masts went, and there seemed no reason why she should have been deserted by her crew. As we pulled up under the stern, we looked out for a name painted there, but a sail hung over it, and if there was a name it was not perceptible. Hearty, the moment he was on board, rushed with frantic haste along the deck, to ascertain the important fact, and very nearly fell overboard in his attempt to remove the sail, till others could aid him. The sail was soon dragged aside, and as we hung down over the taffrail, a large S appeared, there could be no doubt of it. There was the word “Success” of London. I had to help my friend on board again.
“What can have happened! What can have happened!” he exclaimed, as soon as he could find words to speak.
“Why, I trust that they fancied the brig in a much worse condition than she appears to us to be, and that they quitted her in the boats, or some other craft which was fortunately passing soon after the catastrophe.” But as I spoke, our eyes fell on the shattered boats, and I recollected that the former hypothesis could not be correct. “They must have fallen in with some vessel,” I remarked to Hearty. “The ladies were happily conveyed on board her, but why the crew deserted the ship I cannot say.”
“But where can they have gone to – what port can they have put into – what sort of vessel can they be on board?” exclaimed Hearty, almost frantic with agitation. “It’s very dreadful.”
By this time the other boat had got alongside, with Carstairs, Bubble, and Porpoise in her. Together we commenced a search over the deserted vessel. The appearance of the cabin again raised our doubts as to the reason of the desertion. The ladies had evidently been at work just before the catastrophe. Their work-baskets were on the floor, with their work, in which needles were sticking; and needle-cases, thimbles, and reels of cotton, skeins of silk and worsted, and similar articles, were strewed about.
As I looked more minutely into the state of affairs, I observed that every thing of value had been carried off; not a silver spoon or fork, not a piece of plate of any description remained. The ladies’ jewels were all gone. This was what was to be expected, but I was also certain that they would not leave their daily work behind. I did not increase Hearty’s apprehensions by pointing this out to him. Carstairs all the time, though he took matters in a very different way, seemed to be much alarmed and anxious. I saw the chronometer, sextants, charts, compasses, and every thing in the captain’s cabin had been carried off. The ship’s log and manifest could nowhere be found, nor indeed could any of her papers.
From the cabin we went to the hold, and there also the cargo had evidently been disturbed, and I judged that a considerable quantity had been carried away; a few bales of silk and velvet only remaining. This was a very suspicious circumstance. Still, had there been time to remove any thing, the captain would of course have carried away what was likely to be of most value. The forepeak was next searched. The seamen’s chests had been broken open, and the contents of many of them were strewed about – why the men did not use their keys was surprising. Still, in their hurry they might not have had time to find them. Hearty went about looking into every hole, and making his observations on all he saw. He had collected every thing belonging to the ladies as treasured relics, and had them packed and conveyed on board the “Frolic,” while Carstairs took charge of all Mrs Skyscraper’s property, and sighed over it with a look of despair, and we were about to quit the vessel, when one of the men declared that he heard a voice proceeding from the fore-hold. Forward we all went again. Certainly there was a groan. Guided by the sound, and by removing some of the cargo, we arrived at a space where lay a human being. We lifted him up, and carried him out of the dark noisome hole, and the fresh air speedily revived him. At first his startled look showed that he did not know what to make of us, but by degrees he recovered his senses, though his first words increased our apprehensions.
“What! are you come back again? Don’t murder me! – Don’t murder me!” he exclaimed, with a look of terror.
“Murder you, mate! What should put that into your head?” asked one of our men who was supporting him.
By pouring a little brandy and water down his throat, he in a short time recovered altogether. He told us that he had been the cook of the brig. He was an old man, and almost worn out, and that this was to have been his last voyage.
“Well, gentlemen,” he continued, “when I see a number of young ladies come on board, and their mothers to look after them, and no parson to make Davy Jones angered like, which he always is when any on ’em gets afloat, says I to myself, we shall have a fine run of it home, and the chances are that the ‘Success’ will make a finer passage than she ever did before. Well, we hadn’t been two days at sea before we falls in with a polacca-brig, which speaks us quite civil like, and a man aboard, though he was rigged like a Greek, asks us in decent real English, quite civil like, what passengers we’d got aboard. So, thinking no harm, we told him, and he answered ‘that he’d keep us company, and protect us, for that to his knowledge there was a notorious pirate cruising thereabouts, and that if he fell in with us he might do us an injury.’ The captain did not seem much to like our new friend, and would rather have been without his company, but as he sailed two knots to our one, we couldn’t help ourselves, do ye see. For two days or more he kept close to us, and then it fell almost to a calm, and what does he do, but quietly range up alongside with the help of some sweeps he had, and before we knew where we were, he had thrown some two-score or more of cut-throats aboard of us, who knocked some of our crew down, drove others overboard, and very soon got possession of the brig. I was ill below, but I popped my head up to see what was happening, and when I found how things were going, thinks I to myself, the best thing I can do is to be quiet; if they cut my throat, they may as well do it while I’m comfortably in bed as struggling away on deck. Instead, however, of turning into my berth again, I thought that I’d just go and stow myself away in the hold under the cargo, where they wouldn’t be likely to look for me, so there I went, and there I’ve been ever since. I felt the ship some time afterwards thrown on her beam-ends, and thought she’d be going down, but she very soon righted. I felt the masts shaken out of her, but I could not tell what else had happened. I tried to get out to see, but the cargo had shifted and jammed me in so tight that I couldn’t break my way out. I suppose I should have died if you hadn’t come to help me, gentlemen.”
“But can you not tell what became of the passengers and crew?” exclaimed Hearty, interrupting him.
“No more than the babe unborn, sir,” answered the old man; “I suppose they were all carried aboard the pirate. From what I know of some of our crew, I don’t think they would have much minded joining the villains, and several I myself saw killed and hove overboard.”
This fearful information gave us still more concern than we had felt from what we had already discovered. There was some cause for hope before, now there was none. There was no doubt whatever that our friends had fallen into the power of the villain Miles Sandgate. Grown desperate, it was impossible to say to what extremes he might not venture to go. Still I had less apprehension for the fate of Mrs and Miss Mizen than for that of Jane Seton. It could scarcely be expected that he would again let her out of his power. I was offering what consolation I could to Hearty as well as to Carstairs on these grounds, in which I was joined by Bubble, whose heart was overflowing with commiseration for them and those they were so deeply interested in, when Hearty suddenly exclaimed, —
“But, my dear fellow, is it not possible that the same squall which struck this vessel and reduced her to a wreck may have struck the pirate, and sent her and all on board to the bottom? or can you answer me that this is not possible? Still it may have preserved them from a worse fate. Oh, horrible, horrible!”
“I do not think it is probable that people so thoroughly acquainted with these seas should not have been forewarned in time to guard against even the most sudden squall. There are always some indications; only those who do not regard them are the sufferers. Just as likely after he had rifled the brig, Sandgate (for I doubt not that he is the culprit) may have put the passengers on shore somewhere or other, and made some plausible excuse for having taken them on board his vessel. I think, in truth, that for the sake of making friends at court, he is much more likely to have treated them with perfect civility than to have ventured in any way to insult or injure them.”
All the time I was trying to persuade myself that I was speaking what I thought; but I must own that I had very serious apprehensions for their safety. There was no object in remaining longer on board the wreck. To prevent any vessels running into her, for that night at all events, we secured a large lantern with a burner full of oil to the stump of the mainmast. We were very unwilling to quit her, but we could not venture to leave anybody on board to look after her till we could despatch a vessel to bring her into Gibraltar, lest before this could be done a gale might spring up, and she might founder. So, taking Tom Pancake, the old man we had found, on board with us, we returned to the cutter. We forthwith held a council of war, when it was resolved to steer a direct course for Gibraltar, that we might then get vessels sent out in all directions to look for the daring pirate. I never saw any one suffer so much as did Hearty. A few nights of the anxiety he was now doomed to suffer would, I feared much, not only turn his head grey, but completely prostrate him. Carstairs suffered a good deal, but his regard for Mrs Skyscraper was of a very different character to the deep affection Hearty entertained for Miss Mizen; and if he was to lose her, I suspected that he would have no great difficulty in supplying her place as the queen of his affections. No sooner had we left the unfortunate ship, than a fresh breeze had sprung up, and before sunset we had run her completely out of sight. For all the first part of the night the breeze lasted, and we made good way on our course for Gibraltar. For a long time poor Hearty would not turn in; but at last I persuaded him to lie down and take some of that rest which he so much required. I also went below, but I was restless, and just as the middle watch was set, I returned on deck. Porpoise and Bubble were there. I found them watching a bright glare which appeared in the sky. I considered a moment our whereabouts.
“That must be from a ship on fire,” I exclaimed.
“There is no doubt about it,” replied Porpoise. “She has been blazing away for the last hour or more, I fear, for all that time I have observed that ruddy glow in the sky. I hope we may be in time to render some assistance to the unfortunate crew.”
The wind freshened even still more as we advanced towards the burning ship, but not enough for our impatience. Hearty and Carstairs were called, and when they came on deck they exhibited equal eagerness with the rest of us; indeed, Hearty seemed for a time almost to forget his own anxiety in his zeal in the cause of humanity. Surely we seldom know even our most intimate friends without seeing them tried under a variety of circumstances. Sometimes I must own that I have been sadly disappointed in them; at other times I have been as agreeably surprised by the exhibition of self-denial, courage, warmth of heart, and judgment, which I did not believe to exist in them. Such was the case with my friend Hearty.
We got the boats ready to lower the instant we should be close enough to the vessel. The interval which elapsed before we drew up to her was one of great anxiety. All sorts of ideas and fears crossed our minds, and at all events we felt that many of our fellow-creatures might be perishing for want of our assistance. Through our glasses, as we drew on, we discovered that the greater part of the vessel was enveloped in flames; the poop alone was not entirely consumed, though the devouring element had made such progress that the people were already seeking for a momentary safety by hanging on to the taffrail quarters.
“Stand by to shorten sail!” sang out Porpoise.
The square-sail and gaff and square-topsail were taken in, and the foresail being hauled up to windward, and the jib-sheets let fly, the cutter was hove-to and a boat instantly lowered. As before, Hearty and I went in her, while the other gig immediately followed us.
Our appearance took the poor wretches by surprise, as from the darkness of night our approach had not been perceived. They raised a cry to implore us to hasten to their assistance. Our men shouted in return. They needed no cry to urge them to exertion. By the bright glare of the flames we saw that the men clinging to the wreck were by their costume Greeks, while the hull itself had a foreign appearance. The vessel was a brig, we observed. The foremast had already fallen, the flames were twisting and twining in serpentine forms along the yards and up to the very maintop-gallant masthead. Some, as I said, were still clinging to the wreck, others had leaped overboard, and were hanging on to spars and oars and gratings, and a few were in a boat floating near the vessel; but she appeared to be stove in, and to have no oars or other means of progression.
With all these people, blinded with terror and eager to save their lives, it was necessary to use much precaution to prevent ourselves from being swamped by too many leaping on board at a time. The first thing was to rescue those who were in the most imminent danger of being burned. While we pulled under the stern, and as the people dropped into the water picked them up, the other boat hauled those on board who were already floating, and seemed most to require help. We had got most of the people off the burning wreck, but two still hung on to the burning taffrail, and seemed unwilling to trust themselves in the sea.
“Never fear, jump, jump, my lads!” sung out our men; then turning to the Greeks whom they had saved, added, “Tell them to jump in your own lingo; they don’t understand us.”
The Greeks said something about “Inglesi,” but I did not understand what they meant. At last, however, the flames rushing out from the stern ports and along the deck, gave them no alternative, and they had to throw themselves into the water, whence we quickly picked them out, and with a boat loaded almost to sinking, returned on board the cutter. I was especially struck by the appearance of the two men last saved. Certainly they were much more like Englishmen than Greeks. No sooner, however, did the old man we had saved from the “Success” see them than he exclaimed, “What mates! is that you? How did you get aboard there? Why, as I live, that craft must be the Greek pirate which plundered us, and carried off the ladies.”
The worst suspicions which had been floating through my mind were confirmed by these remarks. Poor Hearty seemed thunderstruck. Carstairs had not yet returned. The men could not deny their identity, and they instantly began to offer excuses for having been on board the Greek.
“Never mind that!” exclaimed Hearty. “Tell me, my men, where are the ladies? what has become of them? Help us to find them, and all will be overlooked. They could not have been left to perish on board the burning vessel.”
“We can’t say much about it, sir,” answered one of the men, who seemed to be the most intelligent. “We were forward when the fire broke out, and it was with great difficulty that we managed to crawl aft. When we got there we found that a raft had been built and lowered into the water, and that the boats had been got out, and that several people were in them. Some got away, and we don’t know where they went, but we towed two of them after us. One was swamped and went down, and the other, as you saw, was stove in. What became of the other two we don’t know; we believe that the ladies were in them, but we can’t say for certain; all we know is, that we did not see them on the deck, or in either of the other two boats, when we got aft; still we believe that nearly half the people on board, in one way or another, have been lost.”
Then, supposing the seaman spoke the truth, there was still hope; but how dreadful at the best must be the condition of our friends, exposed in open boats with the most lawless of companions! While we were still examining the men, Carstairs and the rest returned on board. He had also with him one of the crew of the “Success,” who, on being examined, corroborated the statement of the other two. The character of the men whose lives we had preserved was now clear; but, wretches as they were, and deserving of the heaviest punishment, we could not have avoided saving them from drowning, even had we known the worst at first. Scarcely were they all on board before every portion of the burning vessel was enveloped in flames. Porpoise all the time was fortunately not forgetful of the safety of the cutter, and, having let draw the foresail, we had been standing away from her. Suddenly there was a fiercer blaze than before – a loud, deafening report was heard, the remaining mast and deck lifted, the former shooting up into the air like a sky-rocket surrounded by burning brands, and then down again came the whole fiery mass, covering us, even at the distance we were, with burning fragments of wreck, and then all was darkness, and not a remnant of the polacca-brig remained together above water. After the character we had heard of the rescued crew, without giving them any warning, we suddenly seized them, and, lashing their arms behind them and their legs together, made them sit down in a row under the bulwarks. They seemed to be very much surprised at the treatment, but we did not understand their expostulations, and should not have listened to them if we had. We, however, served out provisions to them, and they very soon seemed reconciled to their fate. The three English seamen vowed that they had been kept on board the brig by force, and, as we would fain have believed this is to be the case, we did not treat them as prisoners, though we kept a very sharp eye on their movements; so, especially, did old Pancake, who appeared to have no little dread lest they should play him some scurvy trick in return for his having betrayed them.
These arrangements were very quickly made. The most important consideration, however, was the best method to pursue in order to discover what had become of the raft reported to have been made, and the missing boat. Unless by those who have been placed in a similar situation, the nervous anxiety and excitement which almost overcame every one of us would be difficult to be conceived. Hearty thought of sending the boats away to range in circles round the spot, in the chance of falling in with the raft or boat; but Porpoise overruled this proposal by assuring him that the raft could only have gone to leeward, and that the boat probably would be found in the same direction. Keeping, therefore, a bright lookout, with a light at our masthead, we kept tacking backwards and forwards so as to sweep over every foot of the ground to leeward of the spot where the fire first burst out. We had hinted to the English seamen taken from the pirate that their future prospects depended very much on the success which might attend our search. They accordingly gave us all the information and assistance in their power, by showing us how the pirate had steered from the moment the fire was discovered, and how far she had gone after her captain had placed the ladies on the raft. Nothing could we discover during the night. Hearty was in despair; so was Carstairs; only he was rather inclined to be savage than pathetic in his misery. Daylight came; as the dawn drew on nothing could be seen but the clear grey water surrounding us. Then, just as we had gone about and were standing once more to the westward, the sun rose from his ocean bed, his beams glancing on a small object seen far away on our port bow.
“Huzza! huzza!” shouted Bubble, who was the first to bring his glass to bear on it. “Some people on a raft! There is no doubt on the subject. White dresses, too! It may be the ladies! It must be! Oh, it can’t be otherwise! Keep up your spirits, Hearty, my dear fellow; all will go well! It will, Carstairs, I tell you! Don’t be cast down any more! I think I see them waving!”
Thus the worthy Bubble ran on, giving way to the exuberance of his feelings and sympathy for his friends. Every yard of canvas the cutter could carry was pressed on her, and each moment rapidly decreased our distance from the raft; for that a raft it was, or a piece of a wreck, there could be no doubt. Our telescopes were kept unchangeably fixed on it. It was with no little apprehension, however, as we drew nearer, that I perceived that there were but three persons on it. One was standing up; the other two were seated on benches, or chests, or something of the same size, secured to the raft. The figure standing up was that of a man in the Greek costume; the other two were females. I had little doubt in my own mind who they were. As we got still nearer I fancied that, under the Greek cap, I could distinguish the features of Miles Sandgate. The features of the ladies were more difficult to make out, but I heard Hearty exclaim, “Yes, it is her – it is her!” meaning Miss Mizen; and I felt sure he was right. But who was the other person? The figure was not like that of either Mrs Mizen or Mrs Seton, but whether it was Jane Seton or Mrs Skyscraper was the question. Poor Carstairs, he must have felt that, in all probability, it was Miss Seton. What would Sandgate do when he found himself thus completely brought to bay? It was a serious question, for he had the two ladies entirely in his power, and, had he chosen, might, holding them as hostages, make any terms with us he pleased. I saw him watching the approaching cutter. He must have recognised her as soon as she hove in sight. Yet he did not quail, but stood up boldly confronting us. Then he seemed to be addressing one of the ladies. I looked again; I was certain she was Jane Seton; and I clearly recognised Miss Mizen. Jane had given her hand to Laura. The pirate seemed to be urging her to fulfil some request; he half knelt before her with uplifted hands; then he sprang up, with a look of bitter reproach. By this time the cutter was close up to the raft, and a boat was on the point of being lowered. Again, with an imploring gesture, the pirate urged his suit. Miss Seton shook her head. He seized her hand. She struggled violently. It appeared that, in his rage, he was about to drag her into the water. He would have succeeded, had not Miss Mizen held her hand and drawn her back.
Hearty and Bubble were in the boat pulling rapidly to the raft. The pirate let go Miss Seton’s hand, and drew himself up to his full height; he seemed to be uttering some strong reproaches. The bows of the boat were almost touching the raft, the oars were thrown in. At that moment the pirate, uttering a fearful cry (and if ever I heard the cry of a madman that was one), turned round, and plunged headlong into the water. Down, down, he sank! Scarcely an eddy marked where he had sprung in, with such determination had he endeavoured to reach the bottom. I watched for him, but he never rose again. Such was the dreadful end of Miles Sandgate. The next moment Hearty was on the raft, and had clasped Laura Mizen in his arms, while Miss Seton was borne fainting into the boat by Bubble. They were quickly conveyed on board, while the raft and its freight were allowed to go adrift. The two young ladies were immediately carried to the cabin, where Laura rapidly described to Hearty all that had occurred. Poor Miss Seton, however, required their whole attention, and for the moment drew them off from all thoughts about themselves. Not that Miss Mizen for a moment forgot her mother and her other companions, and it was a relief to us all to find that she had seen them placed in the first boat which had left the vessel just before they had been carried by Sandgate to the raft. He intended, it seemed, to have taken possession of one of the other boats, and when she was swamped he managed to get on the raft, and clear away from the burning vessel before any one else reached it, while he left the rest of his companions in crime to perish without an attempt to afford them aid. The general opinion was that the boat would be steered to the southward, for the purpose of making the Moorish coast, where the pirates fancied that they might find protection.
