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Mr. Trunnell, Mate of the Ship 'Pirate'

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<h2 id="id00377" style="margin-top: 4em">VII</h2> It was with no good feeling that I went below to get the old man a drink. The steward met me and grinned as he brought forth the liquor. "Yessah, it's nine ob dem he takes endurin' de watch. Lord, man, he's got something pow'rful on his mind. Did yo' ebber feel the heft ob his trunk he brought aboard, sah? No, sah, dat yo' didn't. Well, it's pow'rful heavy fo' a man's baggage." "What's in it?" I asked. "'Deed, I doan know, man, jest what is in it, but I reckon it's something what worries him. Dat an' Cap'n Andrews forrads worries him some. Chips, he say as dey goes aft an' have matters straightened out a bit. Dey is fo' either weldin' irons on de cap'n forrads or puttin' him on de beach. Jim, Hans, Bendin, an' Frenchy an' a lot more are fo' doing' somethin' with him. Yessah, dey is dat. Hab a leetle nip 'fore yo' goes?" I took one and went back to the quarter-deck. The speck to leeward showed a bit of storm canvas flying, and we soon could make out she was a large ship hove to like ourselves on the port tack. Her hull showed now and again on the seas, and after drifting down toward her for about an hour, the light grew strong enough to make her out plainly. She was a large ship, English built, with a turtle-backed stern, painted white on the tumble-home of the quarter. Her hull was black, and the foam showed in long white lines of streamers as it was blown across her topsides. She was making heavy weather of it, and every now and again she would ram her nose clear out of sight in the high-rolling sea. Then she would rise heavily, with the white water pouring from her dripping forefoot and wallow dismally, until her weather rail would appear to roll under. The stump of a foremast showed forward and a stout maintopsail strained away amidships, while aft, where the mizzen should have been, there was nothing showing above her deck. Her main topgallant mast was also gone at the cross-trees, but the maintopsail held strongly. Altogether she was pretty well wrecked aloft. While we watched her we drew nearer, and when she came within a couple of miles I could make out a flag, the English ensign, union down, in the main rigging. This showed pretty plainly that she was doing badly and wanted help, but it was absolutely useless to think of doing anything for her while the wind held and the sea showed no signs of going down. Being much lighter than she was, we drifted off more, and we came nearer and nearer as the morning brightened into a dirty day. In a short time we had her close under our lee, not half a mile distant. Indeed, it looked as though we might get closer than we wished to. The wind slacked gradually, however, and before long we managed to get out our main-topmast staysail. Then followed a close-reefed foresail balanced aft by the mizzen lower topsail, which we had saved. This, with the spencer and canvas already set, gave us a good hold of the ship in spite of the sea, and we were ready to wear if necessary. The Pirate drifted much faster under the extra canvas and went to leeward so far that we saw that she would go clear of the stranger. As we drew near, we now saw how deep she sat in the water, the seas rolling over her, amidships, with every plunge. Still she headed up well and was under control. While we gazed, a string of flags fluttered from her yard-arm. I dived below for the code and soon read the signal for help. They were sinking. Trunnell turned out on deck, and we waited to see if Captain Thompson would give the word to do anything. He stood near the rail and gazed through his glass without saying anything or exhibiting any concern whatever for the people we could now see upon the stranger's high poop. Then he turned to the mate and asked:— "What does he want, Trunnell?" "Want's us to stand by him, I reckon," the mate replied. "Can we do it without danger in this seaway, hey?" demanded Thompson. "Answer me that. How the devil can we do anything for a fellow in this seaway, when we might be rammed by him and sink ourselves?" "We'll stand by that ship as long as she's above water," answered Trunnell, quietly. Then came a sudden change upon the captain. He turned upon the mate quickly, and his bright, glinting eyes seemed to grow to sharp points on either side of his hooked nose, which worked and twitched under the excitement. His hand went behind his back and he jerked forth a long revolver. "Who's captain of this here boat, Mr. Trunnell, me or you?" said he, in his drawling voice. "You," answered Trunnell, decisively. "Do you presume to give any orders here what don't agree with mine?" "No, sir," said Trunnell. "Well, just let me hint to you, you bushy-headed little brute, that I don't want any suggestions from my mates, see? You little snipe, you! what d'ye mean, anyhow, by saying what we'll do?" Several men standing on the poop to keep clear of the seas in the waist, hitched their trousers a little, and felt for the sheath knives in their belts. I noticed Jim, the young landsman, pass his hand behind him and stand waiting. There was an ominous silence and watchfulness among the crew which was not lost on the captain. He had inspired no respect in their minds as a sailor, even though he had shown himself fearless. It was evident that they were with Trunnell. "I meant that we would stand by that ship as long as she floated," said the little mate, looking straight into the pistol barrel, "and I expected that it would be by your orders, sir." Thompson was not a fool. He saw in an instant how the case was, and his glinting eyes took in the whole outfit of men and mates at one glance. He may not have wished to help the strangers, but he saw that not to do so meant more trouble to himself than if he did. "This time you expected just right, Trunnell. I mean to stand by those people, and I order you to get ropes ready to hoist out the boat we have on the house, there. What I don't want and won't have is orders suggested by any one aboard here but me. I'm glad you didn't mean to do that, for I'd hate to kill you. You can get the boat ready." Then he put the revolver back into his pocket, and Trunnell went forward along the shelter of the weather bulwarks and made ready the tackles for hoisting the boat out. By the aid of the powerful glass I made out a figure of a woman standing upon the ship's poop. She appeared to be watching us intently. Soon a little sailorly and seaman-like fellow named Ford, whose interest in the strange ship was marked, came from the group near the mizzen and asked if he should get the signal halyards ready. Thompson made no objection, and we bent on the flags which told by the code that we would stand by them until the sea went down enough to get out a small boat. At seven bells the "doctor" managed to get some fire started in the galley, and all hands had a drink of hot coffee. This was cheering, and Trunnell soon had the watch hard at work getting out new canvas from the lazaretto aft. The main deck was getting safer, and although she took the sea heavily now and then, she was no longer like a half-tide rock in a strong current. Topsails were hoisted out from below and gantlines bent. By the time all hands had eaten something and eight bells had struck, we were ready to get up new topsails and start the pumps. Luckily there was little water below. In spite of the tremendous straining the ship had made no more than could be expected, and in a little over an hour at the brakes we had the satisfaction of having the pumps suck. All that morning we worked aloft getting new gear up. The British ship drew away on our weather beam, wallowing horribly in the seaway. The wind died away gradually into a good stiff gale, and by noon we had a break or two above us that let down the sunlight. This cheered all hands. A good meal with extra coffee was served forward, and I sat down to the cabin table with Chips and the steward, to eat ravenously of prime junk and preserved potatoes. "'Tis a quare time ye had ag'in last night, forrads, hey?" said Chips. "It was interesting for a few minutes," I answered. "I hope you fixed the fellow's irons all right. Keys seem to have strange ways aboard this vessel." "Well, ye needn't be afear'd av th' raskil takin' leave ag'in. Sure, an' I riveted his irons this time, as will take a file an' no less to cut through. I votes we get th' old man to put him aboard th' first ship what comes a-heavin' down nigh enough, hey?" "It would suit me all right," I answered. "Jim and Long Tom an' Hans an' a whole lot av us have th' matter in mind, an' we'll speak wid th' skipper afore long. There's a divil's mess below in th' fore-peak, where a barrel has bruk loose that I'll have to mix wid first. Be ye a-goin' in th' boat aboard th' stranger whin th' sea goes down?" "I suppose so," I said; "that lot generally falls to a second mate." "Be sure, thin, ye have th' plug in all right an' th' oars sound, fer th' sea will be heavy fer a bad craft, and ye mind th' irons last night." "I'll just take a look at them before I start. Chips," I said. "Thank you for keeping tabs on the skipper." "It's no great matter," he answered; and then we fell to with a will until the meal was finished. <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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