<h2><SPAN name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV">CHAPTER XV</SPAN><br/> <small>A LONESOME LITTLE TOWN</small></h2>
<p>A light seen in the middle watch gave warning of an unexpected
landfall, and calling up the Old One, who had a store of knowledge
gained by much cruising in those seas, they lay off and on until dawn,
when they made out an island of the Bahamas. It seemed, since by their
reckoning they were still a day's sail from land, that there was some
small fault in their instruments; but to this they gave little heed,
and which island it was and what occasioned the light they never knew,
though some ventured one guess and some another as they bore past it
and lifted isle beyond isle. For two days, with the Old One conning the
ship, they worked their way among the islands, and thus at last they
came to a deep bay set among hills, which offered a commodious and safe
anchorage, notwithstanding that on the point that guarded the bay there
was the wreck of a tall ship.</p>
<p>In the shallop they had taken from the fishing pink, the Old One and
Jacob, with four men to row them, went out to the wreck and returned
well pleased with what they had found.</p>
<p>"God is good to us," cried the Old One, perceiving that Harry Malcolm
waited at the waist for their coming. "Though her foremast and mainmast
be sprung, yet her mizzen is sound as a nut."</p>
<p>"And is it to be fetched out of her unharmed?"</p>
<p>"Yea, that it is! Come, Master Carpenter, haul out our broken old stump
of a mizzen. By this time on the morrow our good Rose of Devon will
carry in its place as stout a stick as man can wish. Faith, the ill
fortune of them whose ship lies yonder shall serve us well."</p>
<p>There was a great bustle in the old frigate, for work was to be done
that needed many hands. Some went to the wreck to save masts and spars,
and others, led by the one-eyed carpenter, toiled to haul out the
stump. Boatswain Marsham and his mate laid ready ropes and canvas; and
the most of the company being thus busied with one task or another,
Martin and the cook caught a store of fresh fish, which the cook—who
had now become a chastened, careful man—boiled for supper, while
Martin went onshore for fruit that grew wild in abundance and for fresh
water from a sandy spring. It was three days instead of one before the
work was finished; but meanwhile there was fresh food and water aft and
forward, and having spent at sea many weary weeks, the men rejoiced to
pass time so pleasantly in a snug haven.</p>
<p>Indeed, a man might have passed a long life in comfort on such an
island, and there were many who cried yea, when Joseph Kirk declared
himself for building a town there, to which they might return with a
store of wives and wines, and from which they could sally forth when
their supplies of either got low, and get for themselves others out of
the King of Spain's ships and plantations. But the Old One laughed and
cried nay. "I shall show you a town," said he, "in a land as fair as
this, but with houses built and ready for us, and with gold piled up
and waiting, and with great cellars of wine and warehouses filled with
food."</p>
<p>So they sailed from the island one morning at dawn and for a week they
picked their way down the windward passages. At times they lay hidden
in deep harbours of which the Old One knew the secret; and again they
stood boldly out to sea and put behind them many leagues of their
journey. And thus progressing, one night, as they worked south against
a warm breeze scented with the odour of flowers, they sighted on the
horizon a dark low land above which rose dimly the shape of a distant
mountain.</p>
<p>The men gathered about master and mate and Jacob, then Harry Malcolm
went swarming up the rigging and from the maintopsail yard studied the
dim bulk of the mountain. After a time he cried down to them, "Douse
all lights and hold her on her course!"</p>
<p>For an hour they stood toward the land, then Malcolm came down from
aloft smiling, and there ran through the ship a great wave of talk.
Though a man had never sailed those seas before, he would not have
found the reason for their talk hard to guess, since there were few
secrets on board. Time and distance had made less the grumbling
occasioned by the disastrous brush with the Porcupine and by the
littleness of the profit got from the pink, and they had warmed their
hearts with the Old One's tales.</p>
<p>Bearing to the west, the Rose of Devon skirted the dark shore for
miles; but the master and mate were growing anxious lest dawn overtake
them before they should reach the hiding-place they sought; and when
they rounded a certain wooded point and sailed into a deep, secluded
bay where a ship might lie for a year unseen,—which put an end to
their fears,—they let go their anchors with all good will and furled
their sails; and at break of day they kedged the ship into a cove that
might have been a dock, so straight were the shores and so deep the
water.</p>
<p>"Mind you, Ned," or "Mind you, Hal, the night we landed on Hispaniola?"
the men from the Blue Friggat were saying. And "'Twas thou at my side
when we stole down through the palms and bottled the garrison in the
little fort." And "Ah, what wine we got that night!"</p>
<p>"Yea, and how drunk we got! So that Martin Barwick was of a mind to go
fight a duel with the captain of the soldiers. And then they burst out
and drove us all away, and there was an end of our taking towns for a
long, long while."</p>
<p>"I will have you know that I was no drunker than any man else," Martin
snarled, and they laughed uproariously.</p>
<p>"Come," cried another, "since we have laid our ship in her chosen
berth, let us sleep while the idlers watch. We shall be off in the cool
of the afternoon."</p>
<p>"Nay, in the morning!"</p>
<p>"Afternoon or morning matters little," said old Jacob thickly, in the
corner where he sat watching all the men. "The hour is near when we
shall lay in the hold a goodly cargo. I know well <i>this</i> town. We need
only find two more such towns to get the money to keep us the rest of
our lives like so many dukes, each of us in a great house in England,
with a park full of deer, and the prettiest tavern wenches from all the
country round to serve us in the kitchen."</p>
<p>That day, while the men slept in such cool places as they could find,
the cook and the carpenter stood watch; and a very good watch they
kept, for they were prudent souls and feared the Old One and dared
not steal a wink of sleep. But though there was much need that the men
should sleep, there was small need of a watch, for the ship lay in that
deep cove in the little round bay, with masses of palms on the high
banks, which hid her from waterline to truck.</p>
<p>At mid-afternoon, as the Old One had bade them, the cook and the
carpenter called the men, who came tumbling up, quickly awake and
breathing heavily, since there was work to be done ere another morning
broke, and, like enough, blood to be spilled.</p>
<p>From a chest of arms Harry Malcolm handed out muskets and pistols and
pikes. "This for you," he said—"and this for you—and here's a tall
gun for Paul Craig. Nay, curse not! Prayers, Paul, shall profit thee
more than curses."</p>
<p>"I tell ye what, I'll not carry this great heavy gun," quoth he, and
turned a dull red from anger.</p>
<p>"Blubububububub!" one cried, and all laughed.</p>
<p>"'Tis lucky, Paul," retorted Harry Malcolm, "that Tom Jordan is an
easy, merciful man, or there's more than one back would bear a merry
pattern in welts." He took up another musket—cumbersome, unwieldy
weapons they were, which a man must rest for firing—and handed it to
another. "And this for you."</p>
<p>Jacob was turning over and over on his palm powder from a newly opened
barrel, and the Old One was leaning on the quarter-deck rail, whence
he sleepily watched the small groups that were all the time gathering
and parting. Will Canty, his face a little whiter than ordinary and his
hand holding his firelock upright by the barrel, stood ill at ease by
the forecastle. The boys lurked in corners, keeping as much as possible
out of the way, but watching with wide eyes the many preparations.
And indeed it was a rare sight, for the staunch old ship, her rigging
restored and her many leaks stopped, lay in her little cove where a
cool breeze stirred the ropes, and the afternoon sun shone through the
palms brightly on the deck, and the men moved about bare-armed and
stripped to their shirts.</p>
<p>"It would save much labour," said the carpenter, "were we to use this
fair breeze to go by sea."</p>
<p>"True, carpenter, but a ship coming in from sea is as easy spied by
night as by day, whereas a company of men descending from the hills by
night will have the fort before the watchdogs bark. And who is there
will grudge labour in such a cause?" The Old One looked about and the
carpenter himself nodded assent.</p>
<p>Only Paul Craig grumbled, and at him the others laughed as they ate and
drank.</p>
<p>They slept again till just before dawn, then, running a plank to the
shore, they gathered under the palms, for there was need of a last
council before leaving the ship.</p>
<p>"We are forty men," said the Old One, "and forty men are all too few;
but though it is little likely that any will stumble on the ship in our
absence, it is a matter of only common prudence that we post a guard
ere we go."</p>
<p>"Yea, a guard!" cried Paul Craig. "I, now, am a very watchful man."</p>
<p>"Nay, but think, Paul, how great a meal thou can'st eat when thou hast
climbed up hill and down with thy gun, and how much thou can'st drink.
'Twould be no kindness to leave thee. We must leave some lithe, supple
lad who hath no need for the tramp." And the Old One chuckled. "Come,
Paul and Martin, you shall lead our van."</p>
<p>Harry Malcolm met his eye, and he nodded.</p>
<p>"I name to guard our ship," said he, "the cook and Joe Kirk and Will
Canty. Do you, lads, load the swivel guns and keep always at hand two
loaded muskets apiece. Fire not unless the need is urgent, and keep the
ship with your lives, for who knows but the lives of us all are staked
upon your watchfulness and courage? You, Harry, since you know best the
road, shall lead, with Paul and Martin upon either hand; the rest shall
follow, and Jacob and I will guard the rear." He turned to the three
who were to stay. "If there is good news, I will send men to bring the
ship round to the harbour where, God willing, we shall load her to the
deck with yellow chinks. If bad news,—why, you may see us in one day,
or three, or five,—or maybe never."</p>
<p>He arched his brows and tossed his piece to his shoulder, and with
Jacob at his side, he followed the others, who were already labouring
under the weight of their weapons as they filed up the steep acclivity.
The Old One and Jacob slowly climbed the wild, rough hill and paused
until the marching column was out of hearing.</p>
<p>"You are a strange man," said Jacob. "I would wring his neck without
thought."</p>
<p>"That were a mere brutal jest such as affordeth little joy," the Old
One replied. "I will wind him in a tangle of his own working, then I
will take the breath from his nostrils deliberately and he will know,
when he dies, that I know what I know."</p>
<p>"You are a strange man."</p>
<p>"I can keep order among the gentlemen better than could any captain in
the King's service; and such a game as this sharpens a man's wits. We
shall see what we shall see."</p>
<p>Jacob slipped away by himself and the Old One followed his men.</p>
<p>All that morning, unseen and unsuspected, Jacob sat behind a rock
within earshot of the ship. The palms shielded him and shaded him and
he got himself into such a corner that no one could approach him from
behind or see him without being seen. And all that morning he neither
heard nor saw aught worthy of mark until about noon a voice in the ship
cried out so that Jacob could plainly understand the words, "One should
watch from land. Now a man on the hilltop could serve us well."</p>
<p>To which a second voice replied, "Go thou up, Will, go thou up! We are
of no mind to stir."</p>
<p>There came the sound of steps on a plank, then a rattle of pebbles
and a rustle of leaves; and Jacob rose quickly and followed at a safe
distance a man who passed his corner on the way up the acclivity.</p>
<p>Reaching the summit, of the hill, where he was safely out of sight from
the ship, the fellow—and it was indeed Will Canty—searched the sea
from horizon to horizon; but Jacob, hunting deliberately as was his
manner, found a seat a great way off, yet so situated among the trees
that he could watch without being seen. For an hour he sat thus in a
niche in the rocks below and watched Will on the flat ledge above; then
he saw him start up of a sudden and look around him very carefully and
cautiously, and whip his shirt off his back and wave it in the air.</p>
<p>For a good half-hour Will waved the shirt, stopping now and then to
rest; but it seemed that nothing came of his waving, for with a sad
face he put on his shirt and again sat down and presently he returned
to the ship.</p>
<p>Jacob dozed a while longer where he was, having seen all that; for he
was a man who could put two and two together as well as another, and
he had learned what he wished to know. Then he got up, and seeking out
the place where the Old One and his men had passed, he followed after
them at a serious, steady gait, which seemed not very fast yet which
kept plodding so surely up hill and down hill and through gullies and
over ledges and along beside the sea, that in two hours he had covered
the distance the others, burdened with guns and pikes and swords, had
covered in three; and before nightfall, following the marks they had
left for him, he overtook them resting in a ravine.</p>
<p>Night, which comes so suddenly in the tropics, was about to darken the
world, when Jacob gave them a great start by walking silently in upon
them as they sat talking in low voices, with their guns lying by their
sides and their minds on the work that was before them. He nodded at
the Old One, who knew well enough what his nod meant, and sat quietly
down among them.</p>
<p>There was but a small moon, and when at nearly midnight they bestirred
themselves and ate the last of the sea bread they had brought, the
light was dim. But their plans were laid and the hour was come and the
Old One and Harry Malcolm and Jacob knew the ways they were to go.</p>
<p>They were more than thirty, and they straggled out in a long line as
they climbed the precipitous hill. But those ahead waited at the top
for those behind and together, marching in close array, they crossed a
ridge and came into sight of a little town that lay below them among
hills and mountains.</p>
<p>It was a dark and silent town, whose houses had a ghostly pallor in
the faint light from the crescent moon, and it lay beside a harbour
which shone like silver. There were no lights in the houses and in all
the place nothing stirred; but in the harbour a ship lay anchored,
concerning which they speculated in whispers.</p>
<p>"The road lies yonder under the rock," said Harry Malcolm.</p>
<p>"And one man has strayed," Jacob whispered. "I will fetch him."</p>
<p>He stepped back the way they had come, and returned with Paul Craig who
dragged his gun by the muzzle.</p>
<p>The fellow's manner betrayed his cowardice and the Old One pushed the
point of a knife against his breast. "If again you stray or loiter,"
he whispered, "this blade will rip you open like a hog fat for the
killing."</p>
<p>Though the words were uttered very softly, others heard them, and
Martin Barwick, whose courage was none of the staunchest, rubbed his
throat and swallowed hard.</p>
<p>"Gold without stint is ours for the taking," said the Old One.</p>
<p>"I have a misliking of yonder ship."</p>
<p>"Nay, she is but one more prize."</p>
<p>They moved down the mountain path toward the town.</p>
<p>"There are twelve houses," said Jacob. "Two men to a house leaves ten
for the fort." In the dim light he had missed his count, for the men as
they approached the gate of the village had crowded together.</p>
<p>"No one sleeps in the fort," quoth Harry Malcolm in a low voice. "They
go to the fort only when they are attacked by dogs of English or wicked
pirates."</p>
<p>Some one laughed softly.</p>
<p>"Two men to a house," the Old One was saying. "Kill, plunder, and
burn!" Then as they stood in the very gate a dog barked.</p>
<p>They jumped at the sound, but higher by far did they jump when from the
ship lying in the harbour there came a loud hail in Spanish.</p>
<p>"Ha! The dogs are wakeful!" the Old One cried in double meaning, and
with that he plunged forward through the shadows. Though for the most
part he showed himself a shrewd, cautious man, he was not one to turn
back when his blood was up; and quicker than thought he had raised his
voice to a yell:—</p>
<p>"Come, my hearts, and burn them in their beds!"</p>
<p>"Nay, nay!" cried Jacob. "Come back while there is yet time! They
cannot yet know who we are or from whence we come. Another day, another
month, will be best!" But they had gone. With a yell the Old One had
led the way, and they had followed at his heels. Jacob was left alone
in the dark, and being a rarely prudent man and of no mind to risk his
neck lightly, he stayed where he was.</p>
<p>As the Old One stormed the first house, there came a shot from the
darkness and he gave a howl of pain and rage. Turning, Phil Marsham saw
a stranger cross the road behind him, but he had no time to consider
the matter, since the first cries had waked the town. A dozen men were
exchanging musket-shots with the fort, wherein they were folly-blind,
for their shots went wild in the dark and their guns took a long time
loading; and the Old One, thinking to further the attack and not
considering that the light would reveal their whereabouts and their
weakness, struck fire to dry grass, which blazed up and caught wood,
but went out, hissing, under a bucket of water from within a house.
Here a Rose-of-Devon's man took the steel and died, and there another
went down, hit by a musket-ball. In a lull in the firing—for the
charges of their guns were soon spent—they heard plainly the sound of
oars and saw that two boats were bringing men from the vessel in the
harbour, and from the far side of the place others came charging with
pikes and swords. In all truth, the town was aroused and the game was
over, so they took to their heels and ran for their lives, since they
were outnumbered and outfought and no other course was left them.</p>
<p>All who escaped gathered on the hill, for though a man might wish in
his heart to leave the Rose of Devon for ever, he could find no refuge
in the nest of hornets they had stirred to fury, since in the eyes of
the enemy one must appear as guilty as another. So, leaving ten of
their number behind them, dead or wounded or captured, every man who
could walk started back for the Rose of Devon with the thought to cheer
him on, that after daybreak in all likelihood the howling pack would be
at his heels.</p>
<p>They bickered and wrangled and cursed, and one whispered to Philip
Marsham that if they had an abler captain their luck would turn, which
was a great folly and cost him a broken head.</p>
<p>"That for thy prattle," the Old One cried, for he had been walking just
behind. And with a club he struck the fellow a blow that sent him to
the ground. Indeed, the Old One had intended to kill him, and had he
not been so weary, he would doubtless have stayed to complete his work,
for his temper was torn to rags.</p>
<p>Uphill and down they went, through thickets and streams, over ledges
and sandy slides, round dank old fallen logs and along firm beaches,
back to their dark frigate, with their labour for their pains. And so,
by broad daylight, weary and hungry and too angry for civil speech,
they came to the Rose of Devon. The younkers trotted along, dog-tired,
and the men tramped in as best they could. There were hard words on
this side and hard words on that, and hands were clapped on knives for
no cause at all.</p>
<p>They thought it queer, when in the gray morning they came sliding down
to the ship, with a rattle of pebbles and loose earth, that they found
her so still, and only the cook on her deck, and himself in a cold
sweat of fear.</p>
<p>"I would have nought to do with it," he cried, and being still mindful
of his thirsty hours in bilboes, he shook in his shoes lest they fix
upon him a share of the blame for that which had occurred in their
absence.</p>
<p>"With what and whom would'st thou have nought to do?" the Old One
demanded, and he showed a face that made the cook's teeth rattle.</p>
<p>"With them—they've gone."</p>
<p>"Who hath gone?"</p>
<p>"Will Canty and Joe Kirk. They took the shallop and bread and beer."</p>
<p>"It seems," said the Old One, and in a strangely quiet voice, "that the
edge that is nicked is not Will Canty's. Is it thine, Jacob, or mine?"</p>
<p>The cook thought that either he or the Old One had lost his wits, for
he made no sense of the words; but Harry Malcolm and Jacob knew what
was meant, and Philip Marsham made a sharp guess at it.</p>
<hr class="chap" />
<div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />