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Authors: John Masefield

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Soon after that, it might be ten minutes after, while the gentlemen were talking lazily about going ashore, we heard loud shouts on deck.

"What's that?" said the captain, starting up from his chair.

"Sounds like fire," said Mr. Jermyn.

"Fire forward," said the captain, turning very white. "There's five tons of powder forward."

"What?" cried the Duke.

At that instant we heard the boatswain roaring to the men to come on deck. "Aft for the hose there, Bill," we heard. Feet rushed aft along the deck, helter-skelter. Some one shoved the skylight open with a violent heave. Looking up, we saw the carpenter's head. He looked as scared as a man can be.

"On deck," he cried. "We're all in a blaze forward. The lamp in the bo'sun's locker. Quick."

"Just over the powder," the captain said, rushing out.

"Quick, sir," said Jermyn to the Duke. "We may blow up at any moment."

"No," said the Duke, rising leisurely. "Not with these stars. Impossible."

All the same, the two men followed the captain in pretty quick time. Mr. Jermyn rushed the Duke out by the arm. I was rushing out, too, when I saw the Duke's hat lying on the lockers. I darted at it, for I knew that he would want it, with the result that my heel slipped on a copper nail-head, which had been worn down even with the deck till it was as smooth as glass. Down I came, bang, with a jolt which shook me almost sick. I rose up, stupid with the shock, so wretched with the present pain that the fire seemed a little matter to me. Indeed, I did not understand the risk. I did
not know how a fire so far forward could affect the cabin.

A couple of minutes must have passed before I picked up the hat from where it lay. As I hurried through the 'tweendecks some slight noise or movement made me turn my head. Looking to my right I saw the horsey man, the stranger, rummaging quickly in the lockers of the Duke's cabin. As I looked, I saw him snatch up something like a pocket-book or pocket case, with a hasty "Ah" of approval. At the same moment, he saw me watching him.

"Where's Mr. Scott?" he cried, darting out on me. "We may all blow up in another moment."

"He's on deck," I said. "Hasn't he gone on deck?"

"On deck?" said the man. "Then on deck with you, too." He pushed me up the hatch before him. "Quick," he cried. "Quick. There's Mr. Scott forward. Get him on to the wharf."

He gave me a hasty shove forward, to where the whole company was working in a cloud of smoke, passing buckets from hand to hand. A crowd of Dutchmen had gathered on the wharf. Everybody was shouting. The scene was confused like a bad dream. I caught sight of the pedlar man at the gangway as the stranger thrust me forward. In the twinkling of an eye the stranger passed something to him with the quick thrust known as the thieves' pass. I saw it, for all my confusion. I knew in an instant that he had stolen something. The pedlar
person was an accomplice. As likely as not the fire was a diversion. I rushed at the gangway. The pedlar was moving quickly away with his hands in his pockets. It all happened in a moment. As I rushed at the gangway, with some wild notion of stopping the pedlar, the horsey man caught me by the collar.

"What," he said, in a loud voice. "Trying to desert, are you? You come forward where the danger is." He ran me forward. He was as strong as a bull.

"Mr. Jermyn," I cried. "Mr. Jermyn. This man's a thief."

The man twisted my collar on to my throat till I choked. "Quiet, you," he hissed.

Then Mr. Jermyn dropped his bucket to attend to me.

"A thief," I gasped. "A thief." Mr. Jermyn sprang aft, with his eyes on the man's eyes. The stranger flung me into Mr. Jermyn's way, with all the sweep of his arm. As I went staggering into the fore-bitts (for Mr. Jermyn dodged me) the man took a quick side step up the rail to the wharf. I steadied myself. Mr. Jermyn, failing to catch the man before he was off the ship, rushed below to see what was lost. The crowd of workers seemed to dissolve suddenly. The men surged all about me, swearing. The fire was out. Remember, all this happened in thirty seconds; from the passing of the stolen goods to the stranger's letting go my throat. The very instant that I found my feet against the bitts, I jumped off the ship on to the wharf. There was the
stranger running down the wharf to the right, full tilt. There was the lanky pedlar slouching quickly away as though he were going on an errand, with his black box full of groceries.

"That's the man, Mr. Scott," I cried. "He's got it."

The captain (who, I believe, was a naval officer in the Duke's secret) was up on the wharf in an instant. I followed him, though the carpenter clutched at me as I scrambled up. I kicked out behind like a donkey. I didn't kick him, but some one thrust the carpenter aside in the hurry so that I was free. In another five seconds I was past the captain, running after the pedlar, who started to run at a good speed, dropping his box with a clatter. Half a dozen joined in the pursuit. The captain had his sword out. They raised such a noise behind me that I thought the whole crew was at my heels. The pedlar kept glancing behind; he knew very little about running. He doubled from street to street, like a man at his wits' ends. I could see that he was blown. When he entered into that conspiracy, he had counted on the horsey man diverting suspicion from him. Suddenly, after twisting round a corner, he darted through a swing door into a stone-paved court, surrounded by brick walls. I was at his heels at the moment or I should have lost him there. I darted through the swing door after him. I went full sprawl over his body on the other side. He had collapsed there, quite used up.

 

CHAPTER VIII

I MEET MY FRIEND

"G
IVE
it me," I said. "Give it me, Longshore Jack. Before they catch us." To my horror, I saw that the creature was a woman in a man's clothes. She took me for one of her gang. She was too much frightened to think things out. "I thought you were one of the other lot," she gasped, as she handed me a pocket-book.

"Didn't he get the letters, too?" I asked at a venture. "No," she said, sitting up, now, panting, to take a good look at me. I stared at her for a moment. I, myself, was out of breath.

"They're going," I said, hearing the noise of the pursuit passing away in the check. "I'll just spy out the land." I opened the door till it was an inch or two ajar, so that I could see what was going on outside. "They're gone," I said again, still keeping up the pretence of being on her side. As I said it, I glanced back to fix her features on my memory. She had a pale, resolute face with fierce eyes, which seemed fierce from pain, not from any cruelty of nature. It was a pleasant face, as far as one could judge of a face made up to resemble a dirty pedlar's face.

Seeing my look, she seemed to watch me curiously, raising herself up, till she stood unsteadily by the wall. "When did you come in?" she said, meaning, I suppose, when did I join the gang.

"Last week," I answered, swinging the door a little further open. Footsteps were coming rapidly along the road. I heard excited voices, I made sure that it was the search party going back to the schooner.

"'Digame, muchacho," she said in Spanish. It must have been some sort of pass-word among them. Seeing by my face that I did not understand she repeated the words softly. Then at that very instant she was on me like a tigress with a knife. I slipped to one side instinctively. I suppose I half saw her as the knife went home. She grabbed at the pocket-book, which I swung away from her hand. The knife went deep into the door, with a drive which must have jarred her to the shoulder. "Give it me," she gasped, snatching at me like a fury. I dodged to one side, up the court, horribly scared. She followed, raving like a mad thing, quite ghastly white under her paint, wholly forgetful that she was acting a man's part. When once we were dodging I grew calmer. I led her to the end of the court, then ducked. She charged in, blindly, against the wall, while I raced to the door, very pleased with my success. I did not hear her follow me, so, when I got to the door, I looked back. Just at that instant, there came a smart report. The creature had fired at me with a pistol; the bullet sent a dozen chips of brick into my face. I went through the door just as the shot from the second barrel thudded into the lintel. Going through hurriedly I ran into Mr. Jermyn, as he came round the corner with the captain.

"I've got it," I said. "Look out. She's in there."

"Who?" they said. "The thief? A woman?" They did not stay, but thrust through the door.

Mr. Jermyn dragged me through with them. "You say you've got it, Martin?"

"Yes," I answered, handing him the book. "Here it is."

"That's a mercy," he said. "Now then, where's the thief?"

I had been out of the court, I suppose, thirty seconds; it cannot have been more. Yet, when I went back with those two men, the woman had gone, as though she had never been there. "She's over the wall," cried the captain, running up the court. But when we looked over the wall there was no trace of her, except some slight scratches upon the brick, where her toes had rested. On the other side of the wall was a tulip bed full of rows of late flowering tulips, not yet out. There was no footmark on the earth. Plainly she had not jumped down on the other side. "Check," said the captain. "Is she in one of the houses?"

But the houses on the left side of the court (on the other side the court had no houses, only brick walls seven feet high) were all old, barred in, deserted mansions, with padlocks on the doors. She could not possibly have entered one of those.

"They're old plague-houses," said Mr. Jermyn. "They've been deserted twenty years now, since the great sickness."

"Yes?" said the captain, carelessly. "But where can she have got to?"

"Well. It beats me," Mr. Jermyn replied. "But perhaps she ran along the wall to the end, then jumped down into the lane. That's the only thing she could have done. By the way, boy, you were shot at. Were you hit?"

"No," I answered. "But I got jolly near it. The bullet went just by me."

"Ah," he said. "Take this. You'll have to go armed in future."

He handed me a beautiful little double-barrelled pocket pistol. "Be careful," he said. "It's loaded. Put it in your pocket. You mustn't be seen carrying arms here. That would never do."

"Boy," said the captain. "D'ye think you could shin up that water-spout, so as to look over the parapet there, on to the leads of the houses?"

"Yes," I said. "I think I could, from the top of the wall."

"Why," Mr. Jermyn said. "She couldn't have got up there."

"An active woman might," the captain said. "You see, the water-spout is only six feet long from the wall to the eaves. There's good footing on the brackets. It's three quick steps. Then one vigorous heave over the parapet. There you are, snug as a purser's billet, out of sight."

"No woman could have done it," Mr. Jermyn said. "Besides, look here. We can't go further in the matter. We've recovered the book. We must get back to the ship."

So the scheme of climbing up the water pipe came to nothing. We walked off together wondering where the woman had got to. Long afterwards I learned that she heard all that we said by the wall there. While we talked, she was busy reloading her pistol, waiting. At the door of the court we paused to pull out her knife from where it stuck. It was a not very large dagger-knife, with a small woman's grip, inlaid with silver, but bound at the guard with gold clasps. The end of the handle was also bound with gold. The edge of the broad, cutting blade curved to a long sharp point. The back was straight. On the blade was an inscription in Spanish, "Vencer o Morir" ("To conquer or die"), with the maker's name, Luis Socartes, Toledo, surrounded by a little twirligig. I have it in my hand as I write. I value it more than anything in my possession. It serves to remind me of a very remarkable woman.

"There, Martin," said Mr. Jermyn. "There's a curiosity for you. Get one of the seamen to make a sheath for it. Then you can wear it at your back on your belt like a sailor."

As we walked back to the ship, I told Mr. Jermyn all that I had seen of the morning's adventure. He said that the whole, as far as he could make it out, had been a carefully laid plot of some of James the Second's spies. He treated me as an equal now. He seemed to think that I had saved the Duke from a very dreadful danger. The horsey man, he said, was evidently a trusted secret agent, who must have made friends with the carpenter on some earlier visit of the schooner. He had planned his raid on the Duke's papers very cleverly. He had arrived on board when no one was about. He had bribed the carpenter (so we conjectured, piecing the evidence together) to shout fire, when we were busy at breakfast. Then, when all was ready, this woman, whoever she was, had gone forward to the bo'sun's locker, where she had set fire to half a dozen of those fumigating chemical candles which she had brought in her box. The candles at once sputtered out immense volumes of evil smelling smoke. The carpenter, watching his time, raised the alarm of fire, while the horsey man, hidden below, waited till all were on deck to force the spring-locks on the Duke's cabin-door. When once he had got inside the cabin, he had worked with feverish speed, emptying all the drawers, ripping up the mattress, even upsetting the books from the bookshelf, all in about two minutes. Luckily the Duke kept nearly all his secret papers about his person. The pocket-book was the only important exception. This, a very secret list of all the Western gentry ready to rise, was locked in a casket in a locked drawer.

"It shows you," said Mr. Jermyn, "how well he worked, that he did all this in so little time. If you hadn't fallen on the nail, Martin, our friends in the West would have fared badly. It was very clever of you to bring us out of the danger." When we got back aboard the schooner, we found, as we had expected, that the men in league with the horsey man had deserted. Neither carpenter nor boatswain was to be found. Both had bolted off in pursuit of the horsey man at the moment of alarm, leaving their chests behind them. I suppose they thought that the plot had succeeded. I dare say, too, that the horsey man, who was evidently well known to them both, had given them orders to desert in the confusion, so that he might suck their brains at leisure elsewhere. Altogether, the morning's work from breakfast time till ten was as full of moving incident as a quiet person's life. I have never had a more exciting two hours. When I sat down to my own breakfast (which I ate in the cabin among the gentlemen) I seemed to have grown five years older. All three men made much of me. They brought out all sorts of sweetmeats for me, saying that I had saved them from disaster. The Duke was especially kind. "Why, Jermyn," he said, "we thought we'd found a clever messenger; but we've found a guardian angel." He gave me a belt made of green Spanish leather, with a wonderfully wrought steel clasp. "Here," he said. "Wear this, Martin. Here's a holster on it for your pistol. These pouches hold cartridges. Then this sheath at the back will hold your dagger, the spoils of war."

BOOK: Martin Hyde
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