Mr Midshipman Easy (43 page)

Although Captain Wilson did not join in this conversation, which he overheard as he stood on the forecastle gun, with his glass over the hammocks, it appears he was of the same opinion: but he demurred: he had to choose between allowing so many of his fellow-creatures to perish miserably, or to let loose upon society a set of miscreants, who would again enter a course of crime until they were re-captured, and, by so doing, probably displease the Sicilian authorities. After some little reflection he resolved that he would take his chance of the latter. The
Aurora
was hove-to in stays, and the two cutters ordered to be lowered down, and the boat's crew to be armed.

“Mr Easy, do you take one cutter, and the armourers; pull on board of the galley, release those people, and land them in small divisions. Mr Gascoigne, you will take the other to assist Mr Easy, and when he lands them in his boat, you will pull by his side ready to act, in case of any hostile attempt on the part of the scoundrels; for we must not expect gratitude: of course, land them at the nearest safe spot for debarkation.”

In pursuance of these orders, our two midshipmen pulled away to the vessel. They found her fixed hard upon the rocks, which had pierced her slight timbers, and, as they had supposed, the respectable part of her crew, with the commander, had taken to the boats, leaving the galleyslaves to their fate. She pulled fifty oars, but had only thirty-six manned. These oars were forty feet long, and ran in from the thole-pin with a loom six feet long, each manned by four slaves, who were chained to their seat before it, by a running chain made fast by a padlock in amidships. A plank, of two feet wide, ran fore and aft the vessel between the two banks of oars, for the boatswain to apply the lash to those who did not sufficiently exert themselves.

“Viva los Inglesos!” cried the galley-slaves, as Easy climbed up over the quarter of the vessel.

“I say, Ned, did you ever see such a precious set of villains?” observed Easy, as he surveyed the faces of the men who were chained.

“No,” replied Gascoigne; “and I think if the captain had seen them as we have, that he would have left them where they were.”

“I don't know—but, however, our orders are positive. Armourer, knock off all the padlocks, beginning aft; when we have a cargo we will land them. How many are there?—twelve dozen;—twelve dozen villains to let loose upon society. I have a great mind to go on board again and report my opinion to the captain—one hundred and forty-four villains, who all deserve hanging—for drowning is too good for them.”

“Our orders are to liberate them, Jack.”

“Yes; but I should like to argue this point with Captain Wilson.”

“They'll send after them fast enough, Jack, and they'll all be in limbo again before long,” replied Gascoigne.

“Well, I suppose we must obey orders; but it goes against my conscience to save such villanous-looking rascals. Armourer, hammer away.”

The armourer, who with the seamen appeared very much of Jack's opinion, and had not commenced his work, now struck off the padlocks one by one with his sledgehammer. As soon as they were released the slaves were ordered into the cutter, and when it was sufficiently loaded Jack shoved off, followed by Gascoigne as guard, and landed them at the point about a cable's length distant. It required six trips before they were all landed; the last cargo were on shore, and Easy was desiring the men to shove off, when one of the galleriens turned round, and cried out to Jack in a mocking tone, “Addio, signor, a reveder la.” Jack started, stared, and, in the squalid, naked wretch who addressed him, he recognised Don Silvio!

“I will acquaint Don Rebiera of your arrival, signor,” said the miscreant, springing up the rocks, and mixing with the rest, who now commenced hooting and laughing at their preservers.

“Ned,” observed Easy to Gascoigne, “we have let that rascal loose.”

“More's the pity,” replied Gascoigne; “but we have only obeyed orders.”

“It can't be helped, but I've a notion there will be some mischief out of this.”

“We obeyed orders,” replied Gascoigne.

“We've let the rascals loose not ten miles from Don Rebiera's.”

“Obeyed orders, Jack.”

“With a whole gang to back him, if he goes there.”

“Orders, Jack.”

“Agnes at his mercy.”

“Captain's orders, Jack.”

“I shall argue this point when I go on board,” replied Jack.

“Too late, Jack.”

“Yes,” replied Easy, sinking down on the stern sheets with a look of despair.

“Give way, my lads, give way.”

Jack returned on board, and reported what he had done: also that Don Silvio was among those liberated; and he ventured to mention his fears of what might take place from their contiguity to the house of Don Rebiera. Captain Wilson bit his lips: he felt that his philanthropy had induced him to act without his usual prudence.

“I have done a rash thing, Mr Easy, I am afraid. I should have taken them all on board and delivered them up to the authorities. I wish I had thought of that before. We must get to Palermo as fast as we can, and have the troops sent after these miscreants. Hands 'bout ship, fill the main yard.”

The wind had veered round, and the
Aurora
was now able to lay up clear of the island of Maritimo. The next morning she anchored in Palermo Roads—gave immediate notice to the authorities, who, wishing Captain Wilson's philanthropy at the devil, immediately despatched a large body of troops in quest of the liberated malefactors. Captain Wilson, feeling for Jack's anxiety about his friends, called him over to him on deck, and gave him and Gascoigne permission to go on shore.

“Will you allow me to take Mesty with me, sir, if you please?” said Jack.

“Yes, Mr Easy; but recollect that, even with Mesty, you are no match for one hundred and fifty men; so be prudent. I send you to relieve your anxiety, not to run into danger.”

“Of course, sir,” replied Jack, touching his hat, and walking away quietly till he came to the hatchway, when he darted down like a shot, and was immediately occupied with his preparations.

In half an hour our two midshipmen, with Mesty, had landed, and proceeded to the inn where they had put up before: they were armed up to the teeth. Their first inquiries were for Don Philip and his brother.

“Both on leave of absence,” replied the landlord, “and staying with Don Rebiera.”

“That's some comfort,” thought Jack. “Now we must get horses as fast as we can.—Mesty, can you ride?”

“By all de power, can I ride, Massa Easy; suppose you ride Kentucky horse, you ride anyting.”

In half an hour four horses and a guide were procured, and at eight o'clock in the morning the party set off in the direction of Don Rebiera's country seat.

They had not ridden more than six miles when they came up with one of the detachments sent out in pursuit of the liberated criminals. Our hero recognised the commanding officer as an old acquaintance, and imparting to him the release of Don Silvio, and his fears upon Don Rebiera's account, begged him to direct his attention that way.

“Corpo di Bacco—you are right, Signor Mid,” replied the officer, “but Don Philip is there, and his brother too, I believe. I will be there by ten o'clock to-morrow morning; we will march almost the whole night.”

“They have no arms,” observed Easy.

“No, but they will soon get them: they will go to some small town in a body, plunder it, and then seek the protection of the mountains. Your captain has given us a pretty job.”

Jack exchanged a few more words, and then, excusing himself on account of his haste, put the spurs to his horse and regained his own party, who now proceeded at a rapid pace.

“O signor!” said the guide, “we shall kill the horses.”

“I'll pay for them,” said Jack.

“Yes, but we shall kill them before we get there, Jack,” replied Gascoigne, “and have to walk the rest of the way.”

“Very true, Ned; let's pull up, and give them their wind.

“By de holy poker, Massa Easy, but my shirt stick to my ribs,” cried Mesty, whose black face was hung with dewdrops from their rapid course.

“Never mind, Mesty.”

It was about five o'clock in the afternoon when they arrived at the seat of Don Rebiera. Jack threw himself off his jaded steed, and hastened into the house, followed by Gascoigne. They found the whole family collected in the large sitting-room, quite ignorant of any danger threatening them, and equally astonished and pleased at the arrival of their old friends. Jack flew to Agnes, who screamed when she saw him, and felt so giddy afterwards that he was obliged to support her. Having seated her again, he was kindly greeted by the old people and the two young officers. After a few minutes dedicated to mutual inquiries, our hero stated the cause of their expeditious arrival.

“Don Silvio with one hundred and fifty galleriens, let loose on the coast yesterday afternoon!” exclaimed Don Rebiera; “you are right, I only wonder they were not here last night. But I expect Pedro from the town; he has gone down with a load of wine: he will bring us intelligence.”

“At all events, we must be prepared,” said Don Philip; “the troops, you say, will be here to-morrow morning.”

“Holy Virgin!” exclaimed the ladies, in a breath.

“How many can we muster?” said Gascoigne.

“We have five men here, or we shall have by the evening,” replied Don Philip—“all, I think, good men—my father, my brother, and myself.”

“We are three—four with the guide, whom I know nothing about.”

“Twelve in all—not one too many; but I think that now we are prepared, if they attack, we can hold out till the morning.”

“Had we not better send the ladies away?” said Jack.

“Who is to escort them?” replied Don Philip; “we shall only weaken our force; besides, they may fall into the miscreants, hands.”

“Shall we all leave the house together? they can but plunder it,” observed Don Rebiera.

“Still, we may be intercepted by them, and our whole force will be nothing against so many,” observed Don Philip, “if we are without defence, whereas in the house we shall have an advantage.”

“E' vero,” replied Don Rebiera, thoughtfully; “then let us prepare, for depend upon it Don Silvio will not lose such an opportunity to wreak his vengeance. He will be here tonight: I only wonder he has not been here with his companions before. However, Pedro will arrive in two hours.”

“We must now see what means we have of defence,” said Philip. “Come, brother—will you come, sir?”

DON RIBIERA and his two sons quitted the room, Gascoigne entered into conversation with the senora, while Easy took this opportunity of addressing Agnes. He had been too much occupied with the consultation to pay her much attention before. He had spoken, with his eyes fixed upon her, and had been surprised at the improvement which had taken place in less than a year. He now went to her, and asked her, in a low voice, “whether she had received his letter?”

“Oh, yes!” replied she, colouring.

“And were you angry with what I said, Agnes?” in a low tone.

“No,” replied she, casting her eyes down on the floor.

“I repeat now what I said, Agnes—I have never forgotten you.”

“But—”

“But what?”

“Father Thomaso.”

“What of him?”

“He never will—”

“Will what?”

“You are a heretic, he says.”

“Tell him to mind his own business.”

“He has great influence with my father and mother.”

“Your brothers are on our side.”

“I know that, but there will be great difficulty. Our religion is not th same. He must talk to you—he will convert you.”

“We'll argue that point, Agnes. I will convert him if he has common sense; if not, it's no use arguing with him. Where is he?”

“He will soon be at home.”

“Tell me, Agnes, if you had your own will, would you marry me?

“I don't know; I have never seen any one I liked so well.”

“Is that all?”

“Is it not enough for a maiden to say?” replied Agnes, raising her eyes, and looking reproachfully. “Signor, let me go, here comes my father.”

Notwithstanding, Jack cast his eyes to the window where Gascoigne and the senora were in converse, and, perceiving that the old lady's back was turned, he pressed Agnes to his bosom before he released her. The gentlemen then returned with all the fire-arms and destructive weapons they could collect.

“We have enough,” observed Don Philip, “to arm all the people we have with us.”

“And we are well armed,” replied Jack, who had left Agnes standing alone. “What now are your plans?”

“Those we must now consult about. It appears”—but at this moment the conversation was interrupted by the sudden entrance of Pedro, who had been despatched to the town with the load of wine. He rushed in, flurried and heated, with his red cap in his hand.

“How now, Pedro, back so early!”

“O signor!” exclaimed the man—“they have taken the cart and the wine, and have drawn it away, up to the mountains.”

“Who?” inquired Don Rebiera.

“The galley-slaves who have been let loose—and by the body of our blessed saint, they have done pretty mischief—they have broken into the houses, robbed everything—murdered many—clothed themselves with the best—collected all the arms, provisions, and wine they could lay their hands on, and have marched away into the mountains. This took place last night. As I was coming down within a mile of the town, they met me with my loaded cart, and they turned the bullocks round and drove them away along with the rest. By the blessed Virgin! but they are stained with blood, but not altogether of men, for they have cut up some of the oxen. I heard this from one of the herdsmen, but he too fled, and could not tell me more. But, signor, I heard them mention your name.”