"She's safe, now, I think," said the captain. "I guess I'll go down and take another look at that glass. It kind o' startled me, it was goin' down so. Sam, how's the stranger?"
"Heading for us, I'd say," called back the mate. "She's a three-master, too. She's carryin' all sail, just now. If there's a heavy blow a comin', she may throw away some of her sticks."
"She may do worse'n that," said the captain, "if she cracks on too much canvas. We won't, though."
Down below he hastened, and now Up-na-tan was pointing at something white and hazy well up in the eastern sky. Every old salt on board was quickly watching what appeared to be, at first, a change of color from blue to gray. Some of them were shaking their heads gravely.
"It's the wrong time o' year," said one, "for that sort o' thing. I know 'em. They're jest crushers. Tell ye what. If it's that kind o' norther, it'll drop down awful sudden when it gits here. Lyme Avery hasn't been a mite too kerful. He knows what he's about."
"There's odds in storms," replied a grizzled whaler near him. "I've seen a Hull trader knocked all to ruins in ten minutes by one o' them fellers. Every stick was blown out of her, and she foundered before sundown."
"Look out sharp for all the gun fastenings!" shouted the captain, as he again came hurriedly on deck. "Up-na-tan, you and Coco guy that pivot-gun, hardest kind. This boat's likely to be doin' some pitchin' and rollin' pretty soon. There'll be an awful sea. Where's that Englishman?"
"Wait a bit," said Up-na-tan. "Ole chief give lobster one shot."
"All right," said the captain. "She's in good range now. Have your extra gearings ready to clap on. This schooner has weathered all sorts o' gales, but it won't do to let her git caught nappin'."
There had been more than a little surprise on board King George's fine frigate Clyde, of thirty-six guns. There had been a group of seaman-like officers upon her quarter-deck at about the time she was discovered by Up-na-tan. Marine glasses were at work in the hands of more than one of those gentlemen, and the express reason for it appeared in their conversation.
The Clyde was a cruiser somewhat noted for her speed. She had been of the convoy of the fleet through which the Noank had so cunningly worked her way, and had been at once detailed to chase the saucy privateer. This was decidedly pleasanter than guarding slow merchantmen, and the frigate's commander had congratulated himself heartily.
"If we don't strike her, we may pick up something else," he had remarked, adding: "I think I can make out the course she's most likely to take. Two to one, she's bound for the Havana, to harry our West India trade. We'll keep a sharp lookout."
So he did, and he had been rewarded even sooner than he had expected.
"Right under our noses," he had said, when the discovery of the schooner was announced. "We can outsail her."
"Captain!" interrupted his next in command, excitedly. "If she isn't taking in sail! What can that mean?"
"She may take us for something else," said the captain. "It's a fine breeze. She couldn't think of fighting us."
"Not a bit of it," said the officer; but his commander was an old, experienced sea-captain, and the queer conduct of his intended prize set him to thinking.
He walked up and down the deck during about half a minute, and then he began to look up curiously at the sky.
"That's it!" he shouted, his whole manner changing suddenly. "The Yankees are right! All hands! Shorten sail!"
He poured rapid orders through his trumpet, while his lieutenants and other officers sprang away to their duties, leaving him almost alone upon the quarter-deck.
"It's plain enough what it means," he said aloud. "There's trouble coming; we must in with every rag. This ship's too light, anyhow, for a hurricane. The men don't know it, but they may be working for their lives. All right! Things are coming in fast enough. I'll get that schooner, too, wind or no wind."
As yet, there was only a fresh breeze to take note of, so far as a landsman could have discerned. There was no actual excitement among the sailors of the Clyde, merely because of a change in the color of the sky. Some of them, however, had sailed as many seas as had their captain or the whalers of the Noank, and they were freely expressing to their comrades their approval of his prudence. All were working, therefore, with an uncommon degree of energy. Their ways and their performances would have been, if he could have seen them, a very instructive lesson to Guert Ten Eyck. He would have learned much concerning the differences between a square-rigged three-master and a schooner like the Noank.
During this somewhat brief and exceedingly busy time, the two vessels had steadily approached each other. The first officer of the Clyde had attended to his taking in and reefing, and he now stood once more before his captain.
"The prize is within long range, sir."
"All right, Mr. Watson. Give her a gun. We must take her or sink her."
"Best sink her, sir. It's not safe to send off a boat. Most likely she's heavily armed, sir."
"No," said the captain, "no boat. We're short-handed, anyhow. We'll not sink her if we can help it. One thing I'm after is to overhaul her crew."
"You are right, sir," laughed the lieutenant. "A shot may bring her to."
There was more than one element, therefore, in the supposable value of the Noank, considered as the prize of the British frigate, Clyde.
Out ran one of the latter's port guns, shotted. It was well aimed, too, whether or not it was intended mainly as a sharp command to surrender. Its heavy shot went whizzing between the schooner's raking masts, doing no actual damage, but serving as a serious warning.
"A little lower!" exclaimed Captain Avery. "That was closer than I expected. Up-na-tan! Let 'em have it!"
He had but just given the order to go about, and the Noank was almost as good as standing still, while the red man sighted his gun. His marksmanship was a shade better, too, than that of the British gunner.
Such a response, or any at all with a gun, had been utterly unexpected by all on board the Clyde.
"Hit us?" gasped the captain. "We are struck? Was there ever such impudence! See what that is!"
"The port o' th' capt'n's cab'n!" shouted a sailor. "It's mashed, sir! And 'ere comes th' wind, sir!"
There had been a crash of wood and glass at the closed port-hole, and from that the Indian's iron messenger had gone on through the cabin door. All to bits flew a great swinging lantern in the saloon, and a wide gap was made in the woodwork of the state-room opposite. This had been closely packed with dinner-table delicacies, including many cases of wine. Sad work was therefore made of the costly juice of the grape, whether purchased or captured. A small flood of it, as red as blood, but not as horrible, came streaming out to tell of the bottle-breaking.
"'Orrid waste, sir!" groaned the captain's steward, as he gazed upon that crimson rivulet. "'E could ha' dined the fleet on 'alf o' that. I'll not forgive they Yonkees!"
"Give 'em a broadside!" roared the angry lieutenant on deck.
"No!" as loudly commanded the cool and prudent captain, adding to his friend: "Not just now, my boy. Call all hands to quarters. It'll be hold hard, in a few minutes. Ease her! Ease her! Starboard your helm! Steady all! Here it comes!"
He was a prime good seaman, that captain of the Clyde, and he was at that moment looking aloft to see his maintopsail blown to leeward.
"I'm glad it went!" he exclaimed. "Good luck! since they couldn't get it in. That'll relieve the strain on the topmast. It wouldn't ha' stood it."
Other sails threatened to follow, however, and the frigate was beginning to reel and pitch unpleasantly, although no very heavy sea had yet risen. The sky overhead was all one whiteness, but low down, northeasterly, it was blackening. The wind that came was bitterly cold and cutting, as well as resistlessly strong. On board the Noank all had been made ready for its arrival, and the schooner showed at once the excellence of her modelling. She leaned over, under her closely reefed mainsail, with a mere apron of a jib, and sped away southerly at a rate which her square-rigged pursuer was not at all likely to rival.
The captain of the Clyde watched her, as he clung tightly to his lashings at the foot of his mizzenmast, using his telescope as best he could, and making remarks as calmly as if he had been contemplating a horse-race.
"I'll say one thing for the Yankees," he said. "We can take lessons from them in light ship building. That's a good one. I wish I had the sailors that are handling her. They turn out some o' the best seamen afloat. Worth twenty apiece of some that were sent to me."
He was himself a fine specimen of the race of vikings who have made England the queen of the seas. Nowhere have they ever been more highly appreciated than among their cousins of the New World, and their many achievements are a part of our own ancestral inheritance.
For the immediate present, at least, the Noank was safe, so far as the British navy might be concerned.
"Guert!" said Up-na-tan, when their watch below brought them together. "Look ole brack man! Coco no like cole wind. Like 'em warm. Up-na-tan no care! Ugh! Want Noank run south. No freeze hard."
Poor Coco had indeed been shivering pitifully when he came down from the deck. Not all the experiences he had had during many northern winters had prepared his Ashantee constitution to enjoy a norther.
In fact, moreover, there was not an old whale catcher on board who did not now and then congratulate himself that the schooner was steering toward the tropics, and would soon leave behind her that fierce, destructive river of dry, penetrating polar air.
CHAPTER VIII
CONTRABAND GOODS
It was greatly to the advantage of the swift Noank that her larger and even swifter enemy was having a battle of its own. The burly commander of the Clyde was compelled to surrender, for the time, to the imperious demands of the polar gale. If it would have been at all safe to have thrown open any of his ports, nothing worth while could have been done with his guns. All that was left for him to do, therefore, was to follow on as best he could in the wake of his American prize. This could be done fairly well, for a while, although he was not gaining upon her. Then, however, another of her natural allies interfered, for darkness came over the sea, and his best hope for catching the Noank went out like an extinguished lantern.
Meantime, the captain had to listen, with undisguised vexation, to his steward's dolorous account of the damage done to the delicacies in the storeroom.
Far away, northerly, that very evening, a patriotic company of Americans had gathered in a large and pretty well-lighted room. Adjoining this were several other rooms, large and small, which were occupied in very much the same manner. The house was the old Ledyard mansion at New London, and all these women and girls had gathered there, with one accord, for work, and not for fun. The brave owner of the homestead, Colonel William Ledyard, was absent upon an errand to Boston, and there were hardly any grown-up men in the assembly. There were boys, indeed, brimming with patriotism, and these were evidently feeling more than ordinarily warlike as they helped their grandmothers, and mothers, and sisters, and aunts at the peculiar industry which had brought them together.
It was neither a sewing society, nor a quilting bee, nor an apple paring. There could not, however, have been more activity or cheerfulness, even at a corn husking, and yet the cause of all this enthusiasm and energy was serious indeed. All the busy fingers in these rooms were putting up ball cartridges with the powder and lead captured by Lyme Avery in the Windsor.
"What a pity it is that we cannot send them to Washington," said one of the workers. "He will need them all pretty soon."
"I hope we'll never need them here," responded another, "but I suppose the forts must be provided. The British may come. They have good reasons for hating New London."
"It hath many bad people in it," came sarcastically from beyond the table in the middle of the room. "I fear there is very little love here for our good king. We think too little of all that he is trying to do for us."
"Rachel Tarns," exclaimed Mrs. Ten Eyck, near her, "there's more news from New York just in. Your good king is stirring up the Six Nations again. There will be more trouble on that frontier."
"Not right away, I think," replied the Quakeress. "I have much faith that the peaceful red men will remain in their wigwams during such weather as this is. Should they not do so, I fear lest some of them might be hurt by the frontiersmen, even if they are not frost-bitten."
"That's what I'm afraid of," said one of the larger boys. "Old Put ought to be there. Washington used to be an Indian fighter. Killed lots of 'em. I guess there won't any of 'em trouble us folks in Connecticut."
"Thee is only a boy," laughed Rachel. "Thy Old Put could tell thee of troubles with the red men not so very far away from this place. Thy own house is upon land that once belonged to them. What would thee do if they should come to take it away from thee?"
"I'd fight!" said the youngster. "My father's with Washington and my brother's with Putnam. Mother and I are ready to shoot if any of 'em come near our house."
"Rachel," said Mrs. Ten Eyck, "how is thy conscience this evening? How is it that a Quaker can make cartridges?"
"I will tell thee," said Rachel. "I have it upon my mind that the more cartridges we make, if they are used well, also, the sooner will this wicked war be brought to an end. Thou knowest that the testimony of the Friends is given for peace. Therefore do I rely much upon that good friend, George Washington. He gave a strengthening testimony at Trenton and Princeton."
Everybody had become accustomed to the dry and often bitter sayings of the old Quakeress, and now a white-haired woman across the room suddenly exclaimed: —
"Hear that wind! O dear! I wasn't thinking of redskins. So many of our boys are at sea. Mine are with Lyme Avery. What wouldn't I give to know just how they're doing!"
"Why, they are sailing south," replied Mrs. Avery. "If this storm reaches 'em, it'll send 'em along. Lyme is used to rough weather."
Brave was she, and very brave were they all, and the "cartridge bee," as they called it, was a good illustration of the stubborn spirit of freedom which made it impossible to conquer the colonies.
"The forts'll be safer," they said, as they packed up their dangerous work and prepared to scatter to their homes through the icy storm. "We must come and roll cartridges two evenings every week. Some of the boys are putting in all their time to moulding bullets."
All of those boys were growing, too, and some who were only fit to melt lead and run bullets at fourteen or fifteen would be in the ranks before the end of the war. They would be Continental soldiers, for instance, at such fights as that at Yorktown. Any country becomes safer while its boys are eager to grow up for its defence, and are all the while taking lessons that will prepare them for efficiency.
The next morning dawned quietly upon both land and sea. The norther had blown itself out, and it had brought no great amount of snow with it anywhere. It had been severe while it lasted, and then it had departed, like any other unwelcome guest.
The streets of New London were cold and snowy, but they were not by any means dreary or deserted that morning.
One more ocean prize had been brought in, and the report of it had gone out in all directions. The sleighing was good over the country roads, and the number of teams hitched along the sides of the lower streets testified to the general hunger for news as well as for trade. The sociability of all these arriving sleighing parties was tremendous, and they seemed to be all of one mind concerning the events of the day. That is, the one-mindedness here was exactly like, and yet exactly opposed, to the one-mindedness which ruled upon Manhattan Island, not so far away. Whigs here, Tories there, were equally earnest, determined, and hopeful.
In New York as in New London, it was currently reported that a number of the more active business men were actually making fortunes by the war. Not a great many rebel vessels had been brought into New York harbor as prizes, but all that did come in, and that were condemned and sold, offered opportunities for speculation. The best of the town trade came from the army and navy, but there were still a few small driblets coming in from the interior. It was worthy of note, perhaps, that furs, for instance, should sometimes reach New York from the north, from regions beyond Albany. These were smuggled down the Hudson River, nobody knew how. It had been suggested, of course, by sharp people, that American commanders might be willing to shut their eyes while a fur trader went in, provided they were to have a talk with him on his return.
In like manner, it was said, the British generals had no objections whatever to the arrival of fellows who were certified to them as "well-known Tories," who could give them abundant information concerning the ragged, starving, worthless condition of the rebel forces in and above the Hudson highlands.
No doubt, too, it was encouraging to the military and other servants of the king to hear, from honest and loyal fur traders, how the rebels of the Mohawk Valley were dispirited by the defeats of Washington's army, and how they were preparing to turn against the Continental Congress. Best of all, perhaps, was the assurance thus brought that all the Six Nations and the Hurons of the woods were ready to take the war-path in the spring as the allies of England.
If there were sailors ashore on leave that morning, from many of the other ships in the harbor, there were none from the Termagant, for she was under orders to sail. Captain Luke Watts himself had a call of ceremony to make, at an early hour, relating to those very orders, for he was to give in his last report of the condition of his ship and crew. The "port captain," to whom his report was to be made, was the commander of a lordly seventy-four. In the absence of any admiral he was the "commodore" of all the naval forces in and about the harbor.
Captain Watts was kept on deck in waiting for a few minutes only, and when he was summoned to the cabin he found the commodore by no means alone. The mere skipper of a transport was not asked to take a seat in such a presence, and Luke stood, hat in hand, respectfully, while his presented papers were read and approved.
"Now, Watts," said the commodore, "what course do you take, homeward bound?"
"As far no'th as I can get, sir," replied Luke, "for good reasons."
"Give your reasons."
"Well, sir, from what I heard at New London, the rebel pirates are aimin' at our West Injy trade. They'll hang 'round the reg'lar course, too, the southern track. I jest mean to steer out o' their way."
"Good!" said the commodore. "What else did you hear among the Yankees?"
"Well, sir," replied the Tory sailor, "they said, and they seemed to know, that our cruisers off the Havana are mostly heavy craft that can't chase 'em through the channels and over the shoals and 'mong the lagoons. What we need, sir, is a lot o' light draft vessels there, and well armed, too."
"Make a note of all this, lieutenant," exclaimed the commodore. "This man Watts has brought in good advice before this. Whatever he brings is said to be of practical value. Go on, man! What next?"
"Well, sir," said Watts, "before I left Liverpool the last time, I heard a p'int. I must look sharp after I get over and want to run in. I must say it, sir, the Irish and English coast is only half guarded. We haven't half enough ships on duty there. Next we know, we'll hear of Yankee pirates in St. George's Channel."
"Note it! note it!" exclaimed the commodore, loudly. "It's just so! What with so many of our best cruisers ordered to America and the Antilles and the Mediterranean, and to the China seas, our own home coasts are left to be defended by old hulks and mere revenue cutters. The Yankees can run away from the heavy tubs, and they can smash all the smuggler catchers. We shall hear bad news, next. Watts, take your own course. Get in how you can. You're a man we can rely on. Go, now, sir."
"My ship'll get in, sir," said Luke, almost too sturdily. "I wish I was as sure 'bout some others. I'm afraid they're going to crack our traders 'mong the islands."
"That'll do! Go!" he was told, and he went out, leaving behind him a very capable naval officer in a decidedly uncomfortable state of mind.
"Gentlemen," he said to his officers, "all that he says is only too true. I am sorry it is, but I am intending to embody it in my report to the Admiralty. The unpleasant thing for us is, however, that we can't spare anything or send anything, from this fleet and station, to prevent the mischief that's threatened among the Antilles."
They all agreed with him. All of them considered, also, that the man Luke Watts had given valuable information and suggestions. He had done so, doubtless, but he had not thereby done anything to hinder the future operations of any Yankee privateer.
He was rowed back to the Termagant, and when he arrived somebody was waiting for him on her deck.
"Feller named Allen," he was told by a sailor at the rail. "He's a kind o' fur pedler, I'd say, with a permit from one o' the generals, I don't know who."
"All right," said Watts. "Fetch him below, packs and all. I'll see if his papers are reg'lar. We don't make any loose work on this ship."
"Ay, ay, sir," said the sailor.
Sharp as was his examination of them a moment later, he seemed to be entirely satisfied with the documents presented to him by the man named Allen. He had obtained the customary authority, as a loyal merchant of the port of New York, to ship by the Termagant to his agent in London, a properly scheduled assortment of valuable furs. All had been officially inspected and approved.
"Come down below," said Captain Watts. "All your packages are down. I'll give these things another overhauling in my cabin."
"Certainly, Captain Watts," replied Mr. Allen. "Whatever you wish."
He was even willing to help carry down the furs, and one of the smaller parcels of them was in his hand when they reached the cabin. He still held it after the door was shut and bolted, leaving him and the captain alone together. Then his entire manner changed somewhat suddenly, and he threw his parcel down upon the table.
"Captain Luke Watts," he said, "that's it. You'd best take out the papers, now, and stow 'em away somewhere. You ain't sure there won't be another look taken at the furs 'fore you git away. I wouldn't risk it. They're getting suspicious, all 'round."
Open came the parcel, as he spoke, and in the very middle of it lay a bundle of such materials as would ordinarily have been sent through a post-office.
"It's about all the cargo I'll have, of any consequence," remarked Luke, staring down at the unexpected mail.
"General Schuyler told me to say," replied Allen, "that all these are of great importance. Some are from him to his friends in England. You'll know how to have 'em delivered. Some are to go to Holland and some to Paris. That last is all the way from the Congress at Philadelphia. It got to me by way of Morristown and one of our Jersey Tories, you know. That's old Ben Franklin's own handwriting."
"I'll see that they go straight through," said Luke, quietly. "I'll put 'em safe away, now, first thing."
"You'll swing at a yard-arm inside o' one day, if you're ketched with 'em," said Allen. "I've been up among the Six Nations, all the way through to Niagara, for my brother's concern on Pearl Street. I went to buy furs for them, you see, and did first-rate. I fetched along packs o' news, too, for the British commanders. It was risky business, working my way through Putnam's lines, though. I came pretty nigh to being shot or hung by the rebels, you know."
"Ye-es, I know," responded Luke. "They came jest about as nigh as that to hangin' me, they did. The bloodthirsty pirates! Get ashore, now, Allen. I'll land your furs for ye. I hope your concern'll make a good thing out of 'em."
"Finest furs you ever saw," laughed Allen. "Look out for spies and searchers. Here's good success to good King George – Washington, and may the glorious flag of England float victoriously – till we pull it down! Luke Watts, I'm the poisonest kind of Tory, I am!"
"Jest like me," said Watts. "I've done all I can to put down this 'ere wicked rebellion."
"I've heard so," said Allen. "We got the news all the way from Connecticut. You delivered a whole ship's cargo of heavy guns and muskets and ammunition to the loyal-hearted Tories of New London. I was born there once, myself. I know just how faithfully they love their king and his blessed Parliament. Good-by, Luke! A successful voyage to you. Keep out o' the way of pirates."
"I must, this time," said Watts. "If I don't, I'll never get another ship to carry furs and things in."
Up on deck they went, and the last words uttered by Allen did not have to be whispered.
"Take good care of your neck, Captain," he called out, from his boat. "If you're caught, this time, you'll never see New York again, or Marblehead, either."
"I guess he's about right," said Mate Brackett, gazing after the boat. "I'd say you seem to be a man that the rebels have set a mark on."
"Never you mind," said Watts. "We won't be ketched by 'em, that's all. The commodore says we may sail our own course. We'll git there."
"All right, sir," said Brackett. "We've a queer lot o' chaps with us this trip, but we'll work 'em."
What he meant by that was that all the prime seamen were needed by the war-ships, and that almost anything on two feet had been deemed good enough for an old transport ship going home in ballast.
"We'll have to travel under light canvas, I take it," remarked Brackett, as he looked at his crew. "It'd be all night and part o' next day for them to shorten sail in a hurry."
The boat which carried Mr. Allen, the loyal fur trader, reached the shore. On getting out of it, he walked until he came to a dwelling a short distance easterly from what the fire had left of old Pearl Street. He entered without knocking and passed through the house to the kitchen in the rear, where a comely, middle-aged woman stood before an open fireplace, watching a pot which was hanging on the crane.
"Sally Allen," he said, in a somewhat low and guarded tone, "the captain took the furs. It's all right."
"It is if they don't find him out," she said, gloomily. "I think you are running awful risks, Tom. The sooner you are back again in the Mohawk Valley, the better for you."
"I shall get there," he told her; "that is, if I'm not shot before I pass the Dunderberg. I mustn't stay here, though. I must be in a canoe at Spuyten Duyvil Creek before morning."
"They make short work of spies, Tom," she said. "Think of what they did to Nathan Hale. I used to know him, years ago, in New London."
"Sally," he said, "I want you to mark just one thing. He isn't forgotten! One o' these days there'll be some first-rate British officer captured, a good deal as Hale was, with papers on him, playing spy. Whenever that happens, our side won't show any mercy. The spy'll have to swing!"
"That's all wrong!" she exclaimed. "I hate to think of it. All revenge is wicked. It's awful to think of killing one man because somebody somewhere else killed another."
"Now, Sally, that isn't it exactly," replied Tom. "What we mean is that all the spy hanging isn't to be done on one side o' this war. What's right for them is right for us."
"No!" she said. "It isn't so! It's like so many red savages to talk in that way. We don't take scalps, just because they do, nor kill women and children. I'm a true American woman, and I believe in righting, but I don't want any stain left on our side."
"There won't be any," said Tom. "I'm going ahead, if they do hang me. I'm running Nathan Hale's risk, all the while."
"God protect you!" she said. "Do you feel sure you can creep through?"
"I've done it before," he replied. "What I'm thinking of, the worst thing for me, is the new line of pickets along the river bank. I shall be fired at, pretty sure, before I can paddle on into the Hudson Narrows. There'll be some risk from our own pickets above Anthony's Nose. I guess they'll all miss me. I've one package, though; that's all weighted, ready to drop into the water if I'm exhausted. I'd make out to sink it, if I was dying. Now, give me some supper."
"Oh, Tom!" she said, "God keep us!"