Books: Among Malay Pirates
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G. A. Henty >> Among Malay Pirates
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"Thank you, Tom; I have made up my mind for a month's holiday, but
I can't accept your invitation, though I should enjoy it of all
things. But it would not be fair to my wife; she doesn't get very
much of my society, and she has been looking forward to our having
a run together. So I must decline."
Virtue hesitated a moment. He was not very fond of ladies' society,
and thought them especially in the way on board a yacht; but he
had a great liking for his friend's wife, and was almost as much
at home in his house as in his own chambers.
"Why not bring the wife with you?" he said, as soon as his mind
was made up. "It will be a nice change for her too; and I have
heard her say that she is a good sailor. The accommodation is not
extensive, but the after cabin is a pretty good size, and I would
do all I could to make her comfortable. Perhaps she would like
another lady with her; if so by all means bring one. They could
have the after cabin, you could have the little stateroom, and I
could sleep in the saloon."
"It is very good of you, Tom, especially as I know that it will put
you out frightfully; but the offer is a very tempting one. I will
speak to Fanny, and let you have an answer in the morning."
"That will be delightful, James," Mrs. Grantham said, when the
invitation was repeated to her. "I should like it of all things;
and I am sure the rest and quiet and the sea air will be just the
thing for you. It is wonderful, Tom Virtue making the offer; and
I take it as a great personal compliment, for he certainly is not
what is generally called a lady's man. It is very nice, too, of him
to think of my having another lady on board. Whom shall we ask? Oh,
I know," she said suddenly; "that will be the thing of all others.
We will ask my cousin Minnie; she is full of fun and life, and will
make a charming wife for Tom!"
James Grantham laughed.
"What schemers you all are, Fanny! Now I should call it downright
treachery to take anyone on board the Seabird with the idea of
capturing its master."
"Nonsense, treachery!" Mrs. Grantham said indignantly; "Minnie
is the nicest girl I know, and it would do Tom a world of good to
have a wife to look after him. Why, he is thirty now, and will be
settling down into a confirmed old bachelor before long. It's the
greatest kindness we could do him, to take Minnie on board; and
I am sure he is the sort of man any girl might fall in love with
when she gets to know him. The fact is, he's shy! He never had any
sisters, and spends all his time in winter at that horrid club; so
that really he has never had any women's society, and even with us
he will never come unless he knows we are alone. I call it a great
pity, for I don't know a pleasanter fellow than he is. I think it
will be doing him a real service in asking Minnie; so that's settled.
I will sit down and write him a note."
"In for a penny, in for a pound, I suppose," was Tom Virtue's comment
when he received Mrs. Grantham's letter, thanking him warmly for
the invitation, and saying that she would bring her cousin, Miss
Graham, with her, if that young lady was disengaged.
As a matter of self defense he at once invited Jack Harvey, who
was a mutual friend of himself and Grantham, to be of the party.
"Jack can help Grantham to amuse the women," he said to himself;
"that will be more in his line than mine. I will run down to Cowes
tomorrow and have a chat with Johnson; we shall want a different
sort of stores altogether from those we generally carry, and I
suppose we must do her up a bit below."
Having made up his mind to the infliction of female passengers,
Tom Virtue did it handsomely, and when the party came on board at
Ryde they were delighted with the aspect of the yacht below. She
had been repainted, the saloon and ladies' cabin were decorated in
delicate shades of gray, picked out with gold; and the upholsterer,
into whose hands the owner of the Seabird had placed her, had done
his work with taste and judgment, and the ladies' cabin resembled
a little boudoir.
"Why, Tom, I should have hardly known her!" Grantham, who had often
spent a day on board the Seabird, said.
"I hardly know her myself," Tom said, rather ruefully; "but I hope
she's all right, Mrs. Grantham, and that you and Miss Graham will
find everything you want."
"It is charming!" Mrs. Grantham said enthusiastically. "It's
awfully good of you, Tom, and we appreciate it; don't we, Minnie?
It is such a surprise, too; for James said that while I should find
everything very comfortable, I must not expect that a small yacht
would be got up like a palace."
So a fortnight had passed; they had cruised along the coast as far
as Plymouth, anchoring at night at the various ports on the way.
Then they had returned to Southampton, and it had been settled
that as none of the party, with the exception of Virtue himself,
had been to the Channel Islands, the last fortnight of the trip
should be spent there. The weather had been delightful, save that
there had been some deficiency in wind, and throughout the cruise
the Seabird had been under all the sail she could spread. But when
the gentlemen came on deck early in the morning a considerable
change had taken place; the sky was gray and the clouds flying fast
overhead.
"We are going to have dirty weather," Tom Virtue said at once. "I
don't think it's going to be a gale, but there will be more sea on
than will be pleasant for ladies. I tell you what, Grantham; the
best thing will be for you to go on shore with the two ladies, and
cross by the boat tonight. If you don't mind going directly after
breakfast I will start at once, and shall be at St. Helier's as
soon as you are."
And so it had been agreed, but not, as has been seen, without
opposition and protest on the part of the ladies.
Mrs. Grantham's chief reason for objecting had not been given. The
little scheme on which she had set her mind seemed to be working
satisfactorily. From the first day Tom Virtue had exerted himself
to play the part of host satisfactorily, and had ere long shaken
off any shyness he may have felt towards the one stranger of the
party, and he and Miss Graham had speedily got on friendly terms.
So things were going on as well as Mrs. Grantham could have expected.
No sooner had his guests left the side of the yacht than her owner
began to make his preparations for a start.
"What do you think of the weather, Watkins?" he asked his skipper.
"It's going to blow hard, sir; that's my view of it, and if I was
you I shouldn't up anchor today. Still, it's just as you likes; the
Seabird won't mind it if we don't. She has had a rough time of it
before now; still, it will be a case of wet jackets, and no mistake."
"Yes, I expect we shall have a rough time of it, Watkins, but I
want to get across. We don't often let ourselves be weather bound,
and I am not going to begin it today. We had better house the
topmast at once, and get two reefs in the mainsail. We can get the
other down when we get clear of the island. Get number three jib
up, and the leg of mutton mizzen; put two reefs in the foresail."
Tom and his friend Harvey, who was a good sailor, assisted the
crew in reefing down the sails, and a few minutes after the gig
had returned and been hoisted in, the yawl was running rapidly down
Southampton waters.
"We need hardly have reefed quite so closely," Jack Harvey said,
as he puffed away at his pipe.
"Not yet, Jack; but you will see she has as much as she can carry
before long. It's all the better to make all snug before starting;
it saves a lot of trouble afterwards, and the extra canvas would
not have made ten minutes' difference to us at the outside. We
shall have pretty nearly a dead beat down the Solent. Fortunately
the tide will be running strong with us, but there will be a nasty
kick up there. You will see we shall feel the short choppy seas
there more than we shall when we get outside. She is a grand boat
in a really heavy sea, but in short waves she puts her nose into
it with a will. Now, if you will take my advice, you will do as I
am going to do; put on a pair of fisherman's boots and oilskin and
sou'wester. There are several sets for you to choose from below."
As her owner had predicted, the Seabird put her bowsprit under
pretty frequently in the Solent; the wind was blowing half a gale,
and as it met the tide it knocked up a short, angry sea, crested
with white heads, and Jack Harvey agreed that she had quite as
much sail on her as she wanted. The cabin doors were bolted, and
all made snug to prevent the water getting below before they got
to the race off Hurst Castle; and it was well that they did so,
for she was as much under water as she was above.
"I think if I had given way to the ladies and brought them with us
they would have changed their minds by this time, Jack," Tom Virtue
said, with a laugh.
"I should think so," his friend agreed; "this is not a day for a
fair weather sailor. Look what a sea is breaking on the shingles!"
"Yes, five minutes there would knock her into matchwood. Another
ten minutes and we shall be fairly out; and I shan't be sorry;
one feels as if one was playing football, only just at present the
Seabird is the ball and the waves the kickers."
Another quarter of an hour and they had passed the Needles.
"That is more pleasant, Jack," as the short, chopping motion was
exchanged for a regular rise and fall; "this is what I enjoy--a
steady wind and a regular sea. The Seabird goes over it like one
of her namesakes; she is not taking a teacupful now over her bows.
"Watkins, you may as well take the helm for a spell, while we go
down to lunch. I am not sorry to give it up for a bit, for it has
been jerking like the kick of a horse.
"That's right, Jack, hang up your oilskin there. Johnson, give us
a couple of towels; we have been pretty well smothered up there on
deck. Now what have you got for us?"
"There is some soup ready, sir, and that cold pie you had for dinner
yesterday."
"That will do; open a couple of bottles of stout."
Lunch over, they went on deck again.
"She likes a good blow as well as we do," Virtue said enthusiastically,
as the yawl rose lightly over each wave. "What do you think of it,
Watkins? Is the wind going to lull a bit as the sun goes down?"
"I think not, sir. It seems to me it's blowing harder than it was."
"Then we will prepare for the worst, Watkins; get the trysail up
on deck. When you are ready we will bring her up into the wind and
set it. That's the comfort of a yawl, Jack; one can always lie to
without any bother, and one hasn't got such a tremendous boom to
handle."
The trysail was soon on deck, and then the Seabird was brought up
into the wind, the weather foresheet hauled aft, the mizzen sheeted
almost fore and aft, and the Seabird lay, head to wind, rising and
falling with a gentle motion, in strong contrast to her impetuous
rushes when under sail.
"She would ride out anything like that," her owner said. "Last time
we came through the Bay on our way from Gib. we were caught in a
gale strong enough to blow the hair off one's head, and we lay to
for nearly three days, and didn't ship a bucket of water all the
time. Now let us lend a hand to get the mainsail stowed."
Ten minutes' work and it was securely fastened and its cover on;
two reefs were put in the trysail. Two hands went to each of the
halliards, while, as the sail rose, Tom Virtue fastened the toggles
round the mast.
"All ready, Watkins?"
"All ready, sir."
"Slack off the weather foresheet, then, and haul aft the leeward.
Slack out the mizzen sheet a little, Jack. That's it; now she's
off again, like a duck."
The Seabird felt the relief from the pressure of the heavy boom to
leeward and rose easily and lightly over the waves.
"She certainly is a splendid seaboat, Tom; I don't wonder you are
ready to go anywhere in her. I thought we were rather fools for
starting this morning, although I enjoy a good blow; but now I
don't care how hard it comes on."
By night it was blowing a downright gale.
"We will lie to till morning, Watkins. So that we get in by daylight
tomorrow evening, that is all we want. See our side lights are
burning well, and you had better get up a couple of blue lights,
in case anything comes running up Channel and don't see our lights.
We had better divide into two watches; I will keep one with Matthews
and Dawson, Mr. Harvey will go in your watch with Nicholls. We
had better get the trysail down altogether, and lie to under the
foresail and mizzen, but don't put many lashings on the trysail,
one will be enough, and have it ready to cast off in a moment, in
case we want to hoist the sail in a hurry. I will go down and have
a glass of hot grog first, and then I will take my watch to begin
with. Let the two hands with me go down; the steward will serve
them out a tot each. Jack, you had better turn in at once."
Virtue was soon on deck again, muffled up in his oilskins.
"Now, Watkins, you can go below and turn in."
"I shan't go below tonight, sir--not to lie down. There's nothing
much to do here, but I couldn't sleep, if I did lie down."
"Very well; you had better go below and get a glass of grog; tell
the steward to give you a big pipe with a cover like this, out of
the locker; and there's plenty of chewing tobacco, if the men are
short."
"I will take that instead of a pipe," Watkins said; "there's nothing
like a quid in weather like this, it aint never in your way, and
it lasts. Even with a cover a pipe would soon be out."
"Please yourself, Watkins; tell the two hands forward to keep a
bright lookout for lights."
The night passed slowly. Occasionally a sea heavier than usual
came on board, curling over the bow and falling with a heavy thud
on the deck, but for the most part the Seabird breasted the waves
easily; the bowsprit had been reefed in to its fullest, thereby
adding to the lightness and buoyancy of the boat. Tom Virtue did
not go below when his friend came up to relieve him at the change
of watch, but sat smoking and doing much talking in the short
intervals between the gusts.
The morning broke gray and misty, driving sleet came along on the
wind, and the horizon was closed in as by a dull curtain.
"How far can we see, do you think, Watkins?"
"Perhaps a couple of miles, sir."
"That will be enough. I think we both know the position of every
reef to within a hundred yards, so we will shape our course for
Guernsey. If we happen to hit it off, we can hold on to St. Helier,
but if when we think we ought to be within sight of Guernsey we
see nothing of it, we must lie to again, till the storm has blown
itself out or the clouds lift. It would never do to go groping our
way along with such currents as run among the islands. Put the last
reef in the trysail before you hoist it. I think you had better
get the foresail down altogether, and run up the spitfire jib."
The Seabird was soon under way again.
"Now, Watkins, you take the helm; we will go down and have a cup
of hot coffee, and I will see that the steward has a good supply
for you and the hands; but first, do you take the helm, Jack, whilst
Watkins and I have a look at the chart, and try and work out where
we are, and the course we had better lie for Guernsey."
Five minutes were spent over the chart, then Watkins went above
and Jack Harvey came below.
"You have got the coffee ready, I hope, Johnson?"
"Yes, sir, coffee and chocolate. I didn't know which you would
like."
"Chocolate, by all means. Jack, I recommend the chocolate. Bring
two full sized bowls, Johnson, and put that cold pie on the table,
and a couple of knives and forks; never mind about a cloth; but
first of all bring a couple of basins of hot water, we shall enjoy
our food more after a wash."
The early breakfast was eaten, dry coats and mufflers put on, pipes
lighted, and they then went up upon deck. Tom took the helm.
"What time do you calculate we ought to make Guernsey, Tom?"
"About twelve. The wind is freer than it was, and we are walking
along at a good pace. Matthews, cast the log, and let's see what
we are doing. About seven knots, I should say."
"Seven and a quarter, sir," the man said, when he checked the line.
"Not a bad guess, Tom; it's always difficult to judge pace in a
heavy sea."
At eleven o'clock the mist ceased.
"That's fortunate," Tom Virtue said; "I shouldn't be surprised if
we get a glimpse of the sun between the clouds presently. Will you
get my sextant and the chronometer up, Jack, and put them handy?"
Jack Harvey did as he was asked, but there was no occasion to use
the instruments, for ten minutes later, Watkins, who was standing
near the bow gazing fixedly ahead, shouted:
"There's Guernsey, sir, on her lee bow, about six miles away, I
should say."
"That's it, sure enough," Tom agreed, as he gazed in the direction
in which Watkins was pointing. "There's a gleam of sunshine on it,
or we shouldn't have seen it yet. Yes, I think you are about right
as to the distance. Now let us take its bearings, we may lose it
again directly."
Having taken the bearings of the island they went below, and marked
off their position on the chart, and they shaped their course for
Cape Grosnez, the northwestern point of Jersey. The gleam of sunshine
was transient--the clouds closed in again overhead, darker and
grayer than before. Soon the drops of rain came flying before the
wind, the horizon closed in, and they could not see half a mile
away, but, though the sea was heavy, the Seabird was making capital
weather of it, and the two friends agreed that, after all, the
excitement of a sail like this was worth a month of pottering about
in calms.
"We must keep a bright lookout presently," the skipper said; "there
are some nasty rocks off the coast of Jersey. We must give them
a wide berth. We had best make round to the south of the island,
and lay to there till we can pick up a pilot to take us into St.
Helier. I don't think it will be worth while trying to get into
St. Aubyn's Bay by ourselves."
"I think so, too, Watkins, but we will see what it is like before
it gets dark; if we can pick up a pilot all the better; if not,
we will lie to till morning, if the weather keeps thick; but if it
clears so that we can make out all the lights we ought to be able
to get into the bay anyhow."
An hour later the rain ceased and the sky appeared somewhat clearer.
Suddenly Watkins exclaimed, "There is a wreck, sir! There, three
miles away to leeward. She is on the Paternosters."
"Good Heavens! she is a steamer," Tom exclaimed, as he caught sight
of her the next time the Seabird lifted on a wave. "Can she be the
Southampton boat, do you think?"
"Like enough, sir, she may have had it thicker than we had, and
may not have calculated enough for the current."
"Up helm, Jack, and bear away towards her. Shall we shake out a
reef, Watkins?"
"I wouldn't, sir; she has got as much as she can carry on her
now. We must mind what we are doing, sir; the currents run like
a millstream, and if we get that reef under our lee, and the wind
and current both setting us on to it, it will be all up with us in
no time."
"Yes, I know that, Watkins. Jack, take the helm a minute while we
run down and look at the chart.
"Our only chance, Watkins, is to work up behind the reef, and try
and get so that they can either fasten a line to a buoy and let it
float down to us, or get into a boat, if they have one left, and
drift to us."
"They are an awful group of rocks," Watkins said, as they examined
the chart; "you see some of them show merely at high tide, and a
lot of them are above at low water. It will be an awful business
to get among them rocks, sir, just about as near certain death as
a thing can be."
"Well, it's got to be done, Watkins," Tom said firmly. "I see the
danger as well as you do, but whatever the risk it must be tried.
Mr. Grantham and the two ladies went on board by my persuasion, and
I should never forgive myself if anything happened to them. But I
will speak to the men."
He went on deck again and called the men to him. "Look here, lads;
you see that steamer ashore on the Paternosters. In such a sea as
this she may go to pieces in half an hour. I am determined to make
an effort to save the lives of those on board. As you can see for
yourselves there is no lying to weather of her, with the current
and wind driving us on to the reef; we must beat up from behind.
Now, lads, the sea there is full of rocks, and the chances are
ten to one we strike on to them and go to pieces; but, anyhow, I
am going to try; but I won't take you unless you are willing. The
boat is a good one, and the zinc chambers will keep her afloat if
she fills; well managed, you ought to be able to make the coast of
Jersey in her. Mr. Harvey, Watkins, and I can handle the yacht, so
you can take the boat if you like."
The men replied that they would stick to the yacht wherever Mr.
Virtue chose to take her, and muttered something about the ladies,
for the pleasant faces of Mrs. Grantham and Miss Graham had, during
the fortnight they had been on board, won the men's hearts.
"Very well, lads, I am glad to find you will stick by me; if we
pull safely through it I will give each of you three months' wages.
Now set to work with a will and get the gig out. We will tow her
after us, and take to her if we make a smash of it."
They were now near enough to see the white breakers, in the middle
of which the ship was lying. She was fast breaking up. The jagged
outline showed that the stern had been beaten in. The masts and
funnel were gone, and the waves seemed to make a clean breach over
her, almost hiding her from sight in a white cloud of spray.
"Wood and iron can't stand that much longer," Jack Harvey said;
"another hour and I should say there won't be two planks left
together."
"It is awful, Jack; I would give all I have in the world if I had
not persuaded them to go on board. Keep her off a little more,
Watkins."
The Seabird passed within a cable's length of the breakers at the
northern end of the reef.
"Now, lads, take your places at the sheets, ready to haul or let
go as I give the word." So saying, Tom Virtue took his place in
the bow, holding on by the forestay.
The wind was full on the Seabird's beam as she entered the broken
water. Here and there the dark heads of the rocks showed above the
water. These were easy enough to avoid, the danger lay in those
hidden beneath its surface, and whose position was indicated only
by the occasional break of a sea as it passed over them. Every
time the Seabird sank on a wave those on board involuntarily held
their breath, but the water here was comparatively smooth, the sea
having spent its first force upon the outer reef. With a wave of
his hand Tom directed the helmsman as to his course, and the little
yacht was admirably handled through the dangers.
"I begin to think we shall do it," Tom said to Jack Harvey, who
was standing close to him. "Another five minutes and we shall be
within reach of her."
It could be seen now that there was a group of people clustered
in the bow of the wreck. Two or three light lines were coiled in
readiness for throwing.
"Now, Watkins," Tom said, going aft, "make straight for the wreck.
I see no broken water between us and them, and possibly there may
be deep water under their bow."
It was an anxious moment, as, with the sails flattened in, the
yawl forged up nearly in the eye of the wind towards the wreck.
Her progress was slow, for she was now stemming the current.
Tom stood with a coil of line in his hand in the bow.
"You get ready to throw, Jack, if I miss."
Nearer and nearer the yacht approached the wreck, until the bowsprit
of the latter seemed to stand almost over her. Then Tom threw the
line. It fell over the bowsprit, and a cheer broke from those on
board the wreck and from the sailors of the Seabird. A stronger line
was at once fastened to that thrown, and to this a strong hawser
was attached.
"Down with the helm, Watkins. Now, lads, lower away the trysail as
fast as you can. Now, one of you, clear that hawser as they haul
on it. Now out with the anchors."
These had been got into readiness; it was not thought that they
would get any hold on the rocky bottom, still they might catch on
a projecting ledge, and at any rate their weight and that of the
chain cable would relieve the strain upon the hawser.
Two sailors had run out on the bowsprit of the wreck as soon as
the line was thrown, and the end of the hawser was now on board
the steamer.
"Thank God, there's Grantham!" Jack Harvey exclaimed; "do you see
him waving his hand?"
"I see him," Tom said, "but I don't see the ladies."
"They are there, no doubt," Jack said confidently; "crouching down,
I expect. He would not be there if they weren't, you may be sure.
Yes, there they are; those two muffled up figures. There, one of
them has thrown back her cloak and is waving her arm."
The two young men waved their caps.
"Are the anchors holding, Watkins? There's a tremendous strain on
that hawser."
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