the life now led by c. b. was a most distracting one for him, and stirred his somewhat easy mind to its depths. he gave not one thought to the dark feelings of hatred with which he knew he was regarded by certain of his shipmates in the conscientious discharge of duties. he was much ashore and mixed freely with the kanakas, who abated no jot of the reverence with which they had first heard of his doings upon closest acquaintance with him. it is pleasant to record that he came and went among them blamelessly. all sorts of gifts were pressed upon him, some of them such as we need not inquire into more particularly, but specially of drink and other forms of hospitality. he readily accepted food when he needed it, but kept his abstinence from intoxicants or tobacco without any effort, because having never known their taste he was not disposed to make a trial of them. doubtless he was virtuous, but if he had been given to self-analysis he would have said that if it was virtue it was entirely unconscious on his part.
which gave it its peculiar charm, for few persons are more offensive than the ostentatiously virtuous, who are usually pharisees of the very worst type. his influence over his men was so great that he could always be depended upon to take a party ashore on a wood and water expedition and get the[pg 183] work done without any trouble, while on the several occasions when the other boat-steerers went on similar errands there was always an aftermath of quarrels and fighting due to liquor. then when the captain intervened and pointed out the difference between the behaviour of the men who went ashore with c. b. and those whose conduct was under review, the debt of hatred steadily accumulated.
but the work went steadily on until the ship was nearly ready for sea, and the captain gave liberty to the port watch. in it were pepe and louis and most of the portuguese in the fo’c’sle, who, dressed in their best and with money to spend, left the ship early in the morning with leave until twenty-four hours later. c. b. spent a quiet day on board, there being little to do, until just after dark the captain called his boat away, and with c. b. in his usual place was pulled ashore to an evening party. there was the usual little group of loafers at the landing-place, and when the captain, dismissing the boat, ordered c. b. to return for him at eleven o’clock the information spread. like a wise commander the skipper saw the boat on its way back to the ship before he left the beach, not that he could not trust c. b. to keep his men together, but from sheer force of habit.
now the gang of portuguese who were ashore, fired with drink, had waited all day in the hope of catching c. b. when he came ashore, and when they heard of the order given they chuckled hugely, for they felt that if they had luck they could get him out of the way once for all. and they laid their plans carefully to entrap him when he came ashore at eleven and kill him, trusting that under cover of the night none of them would be recognized. c. b., all unconscious of any danger, called away his boat’s crew at eleven, and as he was about to step[pg 184] into the boat himself he was surprised to find mr. merritt at his elbow, who said—
“all right, i’m comin’ with you. i’ve took a fancy t’ run ashore.”
c. b. said nothing, although he wondered much whatever merritt could want ashore at that time of night. however, merritt was his superior, so he merely said—
“all right, sir, will you steer?”
“no, my boy,” replied merritt, “i’ll be the admiral for once.” and he lay back in the stern sheets with a grand assumption of luxury, of which there is none in a whaleboat, no seat of any kind being provided aft.
as soon as they swung alongside the little jetty, a kanaka voice said out of the darkness—
“that liza adam’s boat?”
“yes,” replied c. b. “what’s the matter?”
“all right, sir, cappen he say come up house, he want speak you ’bout some things.”
“all right,” responded c. b., “i’ll come,” and sprang ashore, saying as he did so—
“i’m glad you came now, merritt.”
“so’m i,” muttered the fourth mate, unheard by c. b., as he watched the lithe form striding off into the dark after the kanaka. he allowed him to get about fifty yards away, then, with a word of caution to the boat’s crew, sprang lightly after him and rapidly ran in his track. he was not an instant too soon, for c. b. had only just turned the corner of the first store when he was attacked by a group of men with clubs, who sprang at him as a pack of savage dogs might at a strange animal that had accidentally happened to come in their midst.
c. b., taken entirely by surprise and absolutely unarmed, did the only thing possible to him: warding[pg 185] off the blows with his arms he sprang at the nearest man, caught him round arms and body and used him as a shield. it was a good move, for in their blind fury his assailants showered their blows indiscriminately, and the helpless man in c. b.’s arms came in for the full benefit of them. then with a yell wild as that of an indian brave a dark form leapt into the straggling group, and before its savage onslaught three men went down groaning one after the other. “all right, christmas, my boy,” shouted merritt, for of course it was he, “drop that swine and get a club.” crash, crash went his own as he spoke, each blow accompanied by ear-splitting yells in kanaka, which brought dim forms rushing from every side into the fray.
the fracas was very brief, for every one of the assailants had been laid low within two or three minutes. but c. b. also settled down, much to merritt’s dismay, who could not believe that he was badly hurt. merritt tried to raise him, but found that he was a dead weight in his arms, and in great alarm he shouted for a light. several kanakas brought torches, and the inanimate form of c. b. was lifted with tender care and carried into the nearest store. it was there found that he had received two serious wounds, one in the fleshy part of the thigh, which had completely penetrated the great band of muscle and bled profusely, the other in the side laying open the cavity of the abdomen. a surgeon was immediately sent for, and in the meantime merritt devoted all his skill to stopping the bleeding, at the same time issuing orders that every one of the villains who had committed this outrage should be secured and brought into the store.
it was done, but it was hardly necessary, for they were all so badly hurt that they could not[pg 186] make their escape, pepe and louis especially being recognized at once by merritt, although their features were battered into shapelessness, and their stertorous breathing pointed to brain concussion. of the other five only one belonged to the ship, the third mate’s harponeer carlo, the rest were beach-combers of the worst repute. there was not a kanaka among them. as usual the kanakas crowded around, volubly discussing the affair in all its possible details, but when the news spread among them that the attack had been made upon the man whom they had agreed to honour, almost worship, very ugly sounds began to arise, and but for the arrival of the surgeon, accompanied by the captain and a posse of police, the lives of those murderous wretches would hardly have been worth a moment’s purchase. certainly merritt would have joyfully egged the kanakas on to do any deed they thought fit.
but with the coming of the police order was soon restored and the offenders were carried off under strong guard to the calaboose, or lock-up, where with scantiest ceremony they were flung into a cell and left to recover or not as it might please them. c. b., though almost at the last extremity from loss of blood, made a magnificent rally, and in an hour had so far recovered as to be able to tell the simple story of his waylaying. he could not identify any of his assailants, for the attack had been so sudden and the night was so dark; but here merritt stepped in and took up the tale, filling in all the later details of which c. b. had been unconscious, and winding up grimly with the words—“an’ we’ve got ’em all by the heels now. besides, i guess they’ve got enough punishment to last ’em till next time. but if i’d had my way i’d a killed every last one of ’em. a little killin’ ’d do that gang a power of good.”
[pg 187]
the captain’s sympathy with his wounded harponeer was very great, but it must be sorrowfully admitted that his annoyance was greater. it would have given him much satisfaction if he could have blamed c. b. or merritt, but they were both utterly blameless. and so he had no one upon whom he could expend the rage he felt at what he now realized would mean considerable delay and expense, as well as alteration in the personnel of his ship. again and again the cowardly thought arose, “i must get rid of this fellow, i shall never have any peace in this ship until i do,” and he remembered winsloe’s attitude as well as that of the now discomfited harponeers. but in any case he feared that they would be in no shape to resume the voyage from what he had heard of their injuries.
whichever way he looked he could see nothing but trouble, and he weakly put it down to the presence in his ship of a man who, he fretfully muttered to himself, was too good for this world. at last, with a sigh, he rose to his feet saying—
“well, doctor, i s’pose i can leave the patient to you; you’ll oblige me by seeing that he’s looked after, an’ i’ll be ashore again early in the mornin’ to see him.”
but before the doctor could reply merritt stepped forward and said respectfully but firmly—
“i’ll stay and look after him, sir, if you please.”
“ah, certainly not,” testily returned the skipper. “i can’t have any more of you ashore. it’s bad enough as it is. you’ll come aboard with me now.”
merritt looked keenly at his commander and replied in a deeper tone—
“no, sir, i wouldn’t leave him to-night for the value of the ship and her cargo. i’m sorry, sir, to go agen your wishes, but he’s my chum, an’ i[pg 188] want to look after his life. nothing matters to me just now but that.”
such unexpected opposition on the part of the most docile and quiet of all his officers added to the annoyance he was already feeling nearly maddened the skipper. besides, he was angry with himself for what he could not but feel was the injustice he was contemplating. he stormed and raged and threatened until the doctor said laconically—
“if you want to kill this man, captain, you can’t do better than go on as you’re doing.”
that sobered him, and calling up all the self-control he had temporarily lost he replied more quietly—
“oh, all right, it seems i’m bound to be wrong anyway. but as for you, you yellow image, i’ll make you sweat for this. i’ll let you see if you’ll disobey my orders an’ have your own way for nothing”; but there he stopped dead, for merritt coming closer to him said—
“don’t talk like that, captain, you ain’t thinkin’. you know you ain’t got a more willin’ man than i am in the ship, an’ i know you’re too good a man to mean what you say. you wouldn’t like this man to be left here at the mercy of a careless kanaka.”
the captain looked at merritt doubtfully, and then his better feelings conquered him, and holding out his hand he said—
“you’re right, merritt, of course. i’m so upset i don’t know what i’m sayin’. but i feel that rattled that nothin’ ’d please me better than to have a number one row with somebody, an’ i only hope winsloe don’t get talkin’ to-night. good-night, i’ll be ashore before breakfast.” and he departed for the jetty, where his patient boat’s crew[pg 189] were still sitting, waiting through all the stirring scenes that had transpired. he stepped into the boat, crying, “shove off! pull two stern three, so, give way together,” and off flew the boat to the ship.
fortunately mr. winsloe was not on watch, and spurrell was far too good a man to be caught napping, so as soon as the captain came alongside the officer was ready to receive him, the hands stood by the fall and the boat was immediately hoisted to her place. and in ten minutes all was quiet again on board, for the captain went straight to his bunk and turned in, determined to sleep off his annoyance.
during the night the captain had several long intervals of wakefulness, every one of them occupied by reflections upon the happenings of the day. and suddenly he remembered the promise he had made to c. b.’s mother at that meeting which now seemed to be so far away, and his conscience smote him, for that he found himself willing to sacrifice an innocent man to avoid trouble for himself. it is done every day and by people who ordinarily would scorn to do an unjust or unkind action, but under the plea of business exigencies they will perpetrate this basest of all betrayals. i hear now the voice of a good man, a man whose name stands above all possibility of defamation, saying to me—
“young man, i know that you are perfectly in the right, that your conduct in the matter is above reproach, but—you are not indispensable to the business and the man you are in conflict with is. therefore if he makes the condition that either you or he must go, you will have to go, or hold a candle to the devil.”
i am quoting the exact words, for they seared my soul, and i swore then that at whatever cost i would[pg 190] not do the same mean unrighteous thing: i would rather let the devil have the business than hold a candle to him in that way.
the outcome of the captain’s white night was that he arose in the morning determined to do the right thing no matter what the personal loss might be. and besides there was just the chance that c. b. might die—another diabolical temptation to look to that solution of his difficulty as welcome—but if he recovered the perpetrators of the outrage should be punished, and the brave, innocent man protected. he went on deck as usual at sunrise for his coffee, and exchanged greetings with mr. winsloe, who reported that mr. merritt had not returned last night, and had indeed gone ashore without asking leave.
then the captain said—
“i know all about merritt, the service he’s ben able to render excuses him from all breach of discipline. an’ i gave him leave to stay all night. he’s nursing my boat-steerer, who was nearly killed last night by your friend pepe.”
strive as winsloe would, he could not help a momentary gleam of triumph in his eyes, and captain taber, keenly observant of him, saw it. the simmering wrath within him awoke and, growing pale with rage, he burst out—
“yes, i know that’s pleasant intelligence to you, winsloe, and i want to tell you right here that, though i don’t believe for the honour of our name as americans that you were mixed up in this infernal cowardly scheme to kill one of the best fellows that ever lived, i know you would have been glad to hear of his death or disablement or anything that would keep him out of this ship. i’ve been a bit of a cur myself over this business, though i never suspected it[pg 191] before; but i’ve got over that, thank god. if that chap gets well he’s comin’ back here as boat-steerer, an’ if you or anybody else aboard dares to pick on him except in th’ lawful way of discipline in case of his doin’ wrong, you’ll have to reckon with me. i never did play no favourites, nor i won’t now. but as i don’t want to spoil a good ship or a fairly good man (though y’ ain’t half as good as i thought ye was), i’ll give ye yeer option: treat that man square, white man fashion or skip. i won’t have ye in my ship if ye can’t be a man.”
winsloe was beaten—let us hope that he felt ashamed—and he replied after a pause—
“captain taber, i own up, i ben goin’ wrong. i don’t love the feller a bit, but i can’t gainsay that he’s a good man, too good for me in fact. if i’d ben skipper i’d ha’ give big money t’ get rid of him, or i’d ha’ driven him out. but i didn’t try ner i wouldn’t ha’ tried, t’ kill him, an’ i thank ye for exoneratin’ me from that. an’ i’ll put up with him an’ try to get over my natural dislike fer a man whose whole life makes ours look bad by comparison. an’ i’m ready to apologize for acting ugly t’ you, captain taber, whom i’ve worked with and liked so long.”
a hearty handshake was all that followed, but it spoke volumes. then the skipper called his boat and went ashore, making straight for the store where he had left c. b. and merritt the previous night. but long before he reached it he was aware of a huge concourse of natives gathered around it, and, wondering greatly what all the excitement was about, he pushed through the crowd and gained the store, to find the german proprietor in a state bordering on frenzy because his trade was being ruined, he said, nobody could get near the shore to do business.[pg 192] inside the captain found merritt sitting by the side of the patient looking exceedingly dangerous.
upon seeing the skipper merritt’s brow lightened a little but still he looked black, and when captain taber accosted him, inquiring after the welfare of the patient, he growled—
“he’s off his head and no wonder, what with that mob outside and this infernal dutchman fidgeting about in here ’cause of his half-cent trade. let’s get him aboard the ship, sir, at once, or he’ll be worried to death, an’ then i shall have to kill a few of these animals to ease my feelings.”
the skipper looked dubious at this proposition, and yet knowing how immense is the recuperative power of men like c. b. if left to nature’s own restorative processes, he felt that probably merritt was right. so at last he said—
“look here, merritt, go down to the boat and get aboard as quick as you can. rig up a stretcher to carry him on an’——”
“beg pardon, sir,” interrupted merritt, “but they’s plenty o’ stuff here in the store to do that with, an’ i can rig somethin’ up in less than a quarter of the time it’d take to fetch it from the ship. an’ whatever’s to pay let me pay it, sir, if you will; it’d do me good to.”
“all right, all right,” assented the skipper testily; “you’re right again as usual. now i’ll go an’ have a yarn with the dutchman an’ see if i can’t put him in a better humour. hello, here’s the doctor. good mornin’, doc.; your patient isn’t anything to brag about this mornin’, he’s in a high fever, an’ i’m not surprised after the way this gang has been yelling around here all night i’m told. so i’m goin’ to shift him aboard the ship as soon as my fourth mate can rig up something to carry him on.”
[pg 193]
“now, my dear sir,” interjected the doctor hastily, “you surely don’t want to extinguish the feeble flicker of life, do you? if you move that man in his present condition, he’ll die before sunset, now mark my words. but let me see him.” and passing in the doctor examined the suffering man, shaking his head gravely at each new symptom. when he had concluded his examination, during which merritt watched him as if prepared at a moment’s notice to fall upon him and do him grievous bodily harm, he turned to the captain and said deprecatingly—
“just as i told you, sir, to move him now must be fatal. he has a good sporting chance of life now; move him, and it’s gone.”
merritt sprang to the captain’s side and hissed, “don’t take no manner o’ notice of him, sir. he don’ know th’ first thing about it. you know i’d rather die forty times than my chum should, an’ i say that his only chance is to get him aboard. i’m willing to risk it, the rig is all ready, an’ if you’ll let me hire four o’ these kanakas, we’ll have him out o’ this an’ inter a safe place ’thout him bein’ a cent the worse for it.”
“all right, merritt,” agreed the skipper; “i feel sure you’re right.”
“thank you, captain,” sneered the doctor; “my fee is fifteen dollars, which i’ll trouble you for.”
out came the skipper’s wallet on the instant and the money was paid. not another word was exchanged between the pair, and the doctor strode off in high dudgeon.
meanwhile merritt had enlisted volunteers, and poor c. b. was lifted gently on to the improvised ambulance and carried down in the midst of a huge procession of natives, all looking as if they had lost[pg 194] their dearest friend. with the tenderest care he was placed in the boat, and presently was laid in merritt’s cabin on board the ship with one of the hands on watch to fan him and keep off the flies, while merritt went to break his long fast.
the captain had some difficulty in settling up with the proprietor of the store, and only succeeded in doing so by threatening him that if he did not accept the offer of five dollars for the use of his premises for the night, he would get nothing but by process of law. the money was then taken and they parted unfriends. then the skipper, feeling considerably easier in his mind, went off to his friends of the night before and enjoyed a substantial breakfast, interesting his host, who was the american consul, mightily in his recital of the stirring circumstances.
as soon as the meal was over, they went down to the calaboose and learned that the prisoners were in an exceedingly bad way bodily, and quite unlikely to be fit to stand their trial for some time to come. this intelligence decided the skipper on a course of action that had been hazily floating in his mind—he would ship three more harponeers (several had offered), make his season on the japan grounds, leaving bonds for payment of the shares due to the offenders, and then call back again on his way south. in this resolve the consul supported him heartily, and within an hour three more harponeers had been shipped, all of whom, strange to say, were americans, who from some misfortune or another had got stranded in oahu.
the rest of the business took very little time to clear up, and by midday all was in train for the departure of the ship, if only the authorities could be got to agree. this the consul was able to manage by leaving the charge against the ill doers as only that[pg 195] of a drunken brawl, and declaring that he held all funds necessary for payment of their fines and maintenance until they could be shipped away. so expeditiously were matters settled that at sunset that evening the eliza adams was under weigh, stealing out of the harbour westward bound for the coast of japan, and her skipper bearing a lighter heart than he had done for a very long time as regarded the conditions of life on board of his ship.
when all was settled and shipshape the skipper paid a visit to c. b., finding to his amazement and delight that the patient had taken a long stride towards convalescence. he was sane and cool, and was eating with good relish some boiled rice and molasses with which his nurse was feeding him. so far from being any the worse for his removal in the morning he was demonstrably better, and when the captain sat down by his side and commenced to talk with him, he turned a bright and intelligent eye upon him and listened intently to what he had to say. the captain proceeded to tell him all that had occurred in the short time that had elapsed since the uproar of the previous night, but when he described the parlous condition of the portuguese aggressors and explained that they had been left behind in prison, c. b. looked away sad, saying—
“i do pity those poor fellows with all my heart, sir. i can’t in the least understand why they hated me so, and, of course, i feel very angry that they should have waylaid me as they did, but i expect it was the drink that did it. i really don’t believe they would have done it if they had been sober.”
the skipper gave a dissatisfied grunt as he replied—
“don’t, don’t ye? well, if i should be asked what i think, i should say they had planned the whole[pg 196] business long before we got in, an’ that they was only waiting their chance to get you out of the way once for all. but now i hope we’ll have a happy as well as a smart ship. you’ve only got to hurry up and get better, because i can’t have you laid up now, ye know. we may raise whale at any minute between here and the cruisin’ grounds, an’ i know it wouldn’t be good for you to be lyin’ here while we’re havin’ all the fun. so give your mind to gettin’ well.”
the skipper had hardly gone when merritt appeared, and sending the attendant forrard, proceeded to make c. b. comfortable, renew the dressings on his wounds, etc., with infinite patience and tenderness, looking all the time as grim and savage as if he were meditating murder. at last c. b., laying his hand affectionately upon his friend’s arm, said—
“thank you so much, dear man, for making me so comfortable, but why are you looking so mad? i wish you wouldn’t, it grieves me to see that terrible look in your eyes.”
“all right,” growled merritt, “i’ll try and look as pleasant as my ugly mug will let me, for your sake. but when i see how you’ve been served, i can’t help feeling sorry that i didn’t put all them portuguese dogs beyond the possibility of ever doin’ any more harm. anyhow, i got one consolation, they’ll probably die as it is. an’ if i only knew they would, i’d be easy in my mind.”
“oh, chum, chum, don’t talk like that, you don’t know how it hurts me. if i thought you were joking i could smile, dreadful though the words sound. but i know you mean every word you say, and i feel so sorry because—because i love you and wish you knew how good a thing, how happy a thing it is to forgive.”
merritt stared blankly at his patient for a few[pg 197] moments and then snorted, “forgive, hay! yes, i’d forgive ’em when they was fixed so’s they couldn’t do any more harm. but if forgivin’ ’em means lettin’ ’em loose again to go on the same as before an’ murder some chap that’s worth a whole regiment of ’em, why then i calls that such silly nonsense that i won’t talk about it, not even to you. never mind, i’ve often wondered what good i was in the world and now i know—to look after a great soft-hearted baby like you, who’d almost lie down and let anybody walk over ye an’ thank ’em for doin’ it. but that’s enough now, you go to sleep an’ get better more quicker.”