Doctor Syn on the High Seas - Thorndike Russell - Страница 37

No doubt we shall be back before you have out slept your drinking.”

The rascals needed no second bidding to attack the rum casks. In an

hour they were well on the way to being very drunk. Syn went amongst

them drinking and jesting, until he knew that there was no suspicion of

their planned escape. The boat had already been lowered in readiness,

and was alongside. Mipps had stored their seachests, fresh water,

provisions, ammunition and a compass. These precautions had not

attracted much attention from the pirates, who were satisfied that both

leaders had indeed left their share of the plunder on the table.

“Maybe we’ll have to lie low up river,” explained Mipps. “In which

case you wouldn’t wish us starved.”

There was no need to say farewell to their companions, for had they

wished to it would not have been possible; for the whole crew were

raving drunk by midnight, and before dawn were fast asleep. Even the

watch were past all waking. Syn went the rounds pretending to be drunk

himself, and was quite satisfied with what he saw.

“The sooner we start he better,” he whispered to Mipps.

Syn stepped i nto the cabin to take a last look round, and to buckle

on his sword. His eye fell on the table, and he saw that the bundles of

their treasure had disappeared. When Mipps joined him for his cutlass he

remarked on this.

“The rascals have moved them somewhere,” he said.

“I put ‘em in the boat,” explained Mipps. “No use being too honest

with dishonest men, and we’ll need all we have to help us find this

enemy of yours. You get down in the boat, sir, and I’ll follow. Got your

pistols, sir?”

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Syn nodded. “And I see you have. Oh, we shall do very well, I think.”

He left the cabin for the last time, went to the side and climbed the

rope ladder down into the boat. “Hurry, man,” he whispered, looking up

the ship’s side.

But Mipps had disappeared.

For some minutes he waited with what patience he could, and thinking

something must be wrong, was about to climb aboard again when Mipps

reappeared and scrambled down into the boat. “A little matter I had to

see to, sir,” he explained. “Ready, sir. Cas t off.”

Syn took the tiller, and Mipps fell to the oars, pulling vigorously.

“Conserve your strength, man,” advised Syn. “There’s no need of such

haste.”

“Sooner we’re away from them the better,” replied Mipps.

“There’s a breeze that will save you your pains,” said Syn. “I’ll up

sail. And, what is more, we’ll change our plans. since we are not

watched by those drunken swine, we’ll head up-coast. Why should we

break our backs with trading across difficult country with our seachests, when this boat can carry us right up to Charleston? The breeze

will be behind us when we clear the promontory.”

“Aye, aye, sir, that’s game. I was wondering myself how the devil we

was going to carry all this clutter without a horse and trap.”

The sail up and cat ching the wind, Mipps shipped his oars and the boat

spanked along magnificently. When they were safely round the head of the

river-bank, and headed north, Mipps signed with relief.

“No danger now, sir,” he said. “I was very anxious to get the head

between us and the ship. You never know with all them drunken dogs

about, and the magazine so full of powder.”

“Tut, man, the magazine is locked and the key in our cabin,” said

Syn. “They’re not likely to want powder with so much rum in ‘em.”

“Well, I was only wishful of warning you, sir, that should the

magazine blow up, don’t get jumping and upsetting the trim. Queer things

happens even on pirate ships. And the very name of Sulphur Pit puts one

thinking of explosions.”

These words were hardly out of hi s mouth when the sky was reddened

with flame, and a mighty roar rolled over the sea.

“Good God, man, that’s the ship!” cried Syn.

“Must be,” agreed Mipps. “It ain’t the fifth of November, certainly.

Good thing I warned you about trimming boat.”

Suddenly Syn suspected the truth. “Mipps,” he said, “was that what

you were doing when I was waiting in the boat? Did you go into the

magazine?”

“Yes, sir, and I must have left a lighted candle there,” he said

shamefacedly. “Very careless.”

“And a train of powder, too, no doubt,” added Syn grimly.

“Dead men tells no tales, sir,” said the little man. “And you and I

ain’t going to hang for scum like that. I didn’t want it on your

conscience, sir, you being a parson and all, but when you think it over,

you must own I took a good opportunity. We’re clear now of the Sulphur

Pit. Not a man could live through a bang like that, and I’ve done

nothing but what a man-o’-war wouldn’t have been proud to do. We’ve rid

the seas of a very dirty mob. Confess, sir. Am I right? I’ll be glad to

know what you think.”

“I think you’re more of a little devil than I suspected. But if your

case was put to a vote, I believe the rights would be more than the

wrongs.”

“Thankee, sir,” groaned Mipps. “You’ve took it handsome. And how

about a nice little nip of rum to keep out the cold?”

“Aye, pass the bottle,” answered Syn.

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Chapter 13

Redskins

The two hundred miles from St. John’s River to Charleston were

navigated in less days than they had hoped to be possible. The breeze

held steadily behind them and the weather fine, so that on the whole,

the way was pleasant. Clear of the pirates, they could now talk freely,

and the liking which had always existed between the companions ripened

into a real friendship. But no familiarity in Syn’s conversation could

break down the respectful attitude of Mipps, and the parson thanked God

for his ally. By the time they sighted Charleston, they understood each

other well, and each knew that he could depend upon the other in any

circumstances. They concocted a ringing-true story which Syn was to

carry to the Governor, and during sailing hours he had rehearsed this

over and over again, till both were satisfied. Each time some little

detail was added, till on one occasion at the end of his recital Syn saw

that the little pirate’s eyes were filled with tears, and asked him what

was wrong.

“It’s so pathetic,” blubbered Mipps. “I ain’t had a cry for years.

No, not since a friend of mine had an aunt, that died, who was very fond

of him. And if our story you keep telling me was true, I think I should

never stop crying. It’s a most wonderful yarn, I considers, and if the

Governor don’t cry hisself silly over our misfortunes, he’s a cold

pebble.”

But the Governor was no pebble. I ndeed, he proved himself a very

sympathetic friend. As luck would have it, he was walking with a wealth

merchant on the quay, when the wayfarers put in, and being curious as to

what they, were he sent a servant to inquire.

Now, although Mipps had considered it advisable to arrive in port

disheveled, dirty and unshaven, in order to heighten the effect of the

imagined hardships they had undergone, Syn had insisted upon making a

careful toilet before appearing.

“Elegance and cleanliness will gain more sympathy,” he had argued.

“In all tribulations a gentleman possessing fresh linen and a razor

should take the pains to use them.”

It was obvious, therefore, to the Governor, as he watched Syn’s

striking figure coming towards him on the quay, that there was a man of

parts, a gentleman. The manner in which he swept off his threecornered