I agreed to this with all my heart, and fetching the bag of gold from my cabin which Sir Bartlemy had sent, I bade him distribute every farthing amongst them; and this he did, giving every man equal share, so that each got over a pound, for there was the value of a hundred pounds in the bag, and the two crews numbered four score, as near as may be.
When he had thus made the "dividend," as he called it, Rodrigues told them that it was I who gave the money out of love for them, and the hardships they had borne on my account. Whereupon Ned Parsons cried he would do as much again and a hundred times more for so generous a gentleman, and bade his comrades give me a cheer, which they did with all their lungs, and three times. And I thought this Ned Parsons was a good friend to me, but he was not.
CHAPTER V
TO MY MORTAL PERIL I OVERHEAR A SORDID SCHEME OF RODRIGUES AND NED PARSONS
Sir Harry gave leave that all should go on shore who had a mind to, save only such as Parsons and Rodrigues should need to keep on board the Adventurer and the Sure Hawk for their protection; and Rodrigues bade all be gone, saying that he and Ned Parsons would watch the two ships during the night. So the men went off in the barge, one batch after the other, and last of all Sir Harry himself went also to refresh his spirits after the grief of losing his dear friend; and Parsons rowed him to shore. There were then left on the Sure Hawk none save Rodrigues and I. And I being heavy with sleep (it being by that time nine o'clock, as I think) threw myself on my cot within my cabin, and fell off in a doze. While I lay there Rodrigues came to my cabin and saw me by the light of the lamp, as I found out afterwards. But presently awaking, I rose up and went out on the deck, feeling the want of fresh air. And indeed the night would have tempted most men to go forth, being very fair and the moon vastly bright, as it is in those parts.
There was not a soul on the deck, for Rodrigues, seeing me asleep and all clear, had gone into the captain's storeroom to pilfer a bottle of wine; and so without design I sauntered on till coming, as chance would have it, to the main-mast of the ship, I came to a stand, and leaning my back against the stern so that I faced the moon, I fell on meditating on my lot. Whilst I stood there I heard the dip of oars; then the chink of glass as Rodrigues set down his bottles right over against where I stood, but on the other side of the great mast, and after that he went to the side and called over, "Come up, Ned, I've that will make us merry, though we be not ashore."
"For all that I would rather be ashore with our mates," replies Parsons in a grumbling voice as he comes up the side.
"And so we will, man, and many a jolly night will we spend with our mates – when we have no secrets to keep," replies Rodrigues. "Here we have it all to ourselves, and need fear nothing if the drink do give a loose to our tongues."
"Where's Pengilly? He went not ashore," says Parsons, when he had tumbled over the bulwarks on to the deck.
"Asleep in the coach where you see the light burning, and is sound as a log. Sit you down here, and we shall see him if he comes out, which is not likely."
So they sat down together on a chest facing the roundhouse, and just on the other side of the mast where Rodrigues had set the bottles, and presently began to drink and talk; yet still I kept where I was, with my back against the mast; firstly, because the moon seemed to spread a calm over my mind which I cared not to dispel, and after that because I became curious to know what they had to talk about.
"Well," says Parsons, in a more cheerful tone, after taking a drink, "how goes it?"
"Famously," replies Rodrigues, clacking his tongue against his teeth and pouring out more wine.
"Have you sounded the men? Have you opened out to them of our project?"
"Nay; not yet. Nor have you, I hope, or they will blab everything before they get sober again. I bade you keep a still tongue, Ned."
"And so I have. There's been other matters to think on. A rare time it has been with us to keep the ship afloat. But I did my part of the business."
"And bravely, I warrant. Tell me how you did it, Ned."
"I caught him a stroke on the head with a crow as he was at prayer, and heaved his body out into the sea by the galley port." 'Twas thus he had cruelly murdered Captain Murray.
"No one saw you!"
"Never a soul. He was missed in the morning, and all think he was washed over by a sea."
"Well, there's one out of the way. 'Twill be Smidmore's turn next."
"When?" asks Parsons.
"That's as hereafter may be. I'm for leaving everything till we have provisioned at Trinidado."
"And I'm for going at it at once. Curse this hanging fire when there's prize to be taken, I say. Now Murray is out of the way you will be made captain of the Adventurer, and I reckon I will be master in your place on the Sure Hawk. We are well armed and ammunitioned, and shall not lack provisions. Then why should we wait till we've been to Trinidado, I want to know?"
"Because we should have to victual again before going round to the South Sea, and we want no one to get wind of our intent before we're ready to fly our colors. It would be folly to spoil the venture for the sake of a week or two. Besides, we know not how the men will take it."
"How do we stand for men?" asks Parsons, in his grumbling tone again.
"Why, there's Black, and Jarvis, and Kelly, and all those of our old crew who served with us before – they may be depended on."
"That's thirteen men, and we two make fifteen, all told."
"These men, though they pretend to believe that we are going up the Orinoco after a mare's next, are not such fools as to think that I design to end my days there."
"Ay!" says Parsons with a laugh, setting down his cup again. "Nor would they have been fools enough to engage on any such silly venture unless they felt sure something better was to come of it. Well, there's fifteen – go on."
"Of the rest there's a score as desperate follows as ever trod a deck, and ripe for any mischief."
"Would to Heaven we could have raked up more like them."
"The rest are fools; but sturdy, good seamen, for all that."
Here I was reminded of what I had previously remarked – viz., that there were two sorts of men in our crew and no third. One set were reckless, dare-devil, cursing rascals, and the other were as simple-minded as any children; but, as Rodrigues, said every one a hale, good seaman. And this was due to the cunning of Rodrigues, who, by reason of his knowing the parts to which we were bound, had been entrusted to choose a crew likely for the purpose.
"Well," says Parsons, "here are five-and-thirty men to back us at a sign, and a match for all the rest with their captain and your Pengilly as well. Now, here's my plan, Rodrigues, and if you will hear me you shall own that it is better than all your fiddle-faddle of waiting for this, that, and t'other."
"Well, out with it, Ned. You know that I have never refused to listen to advice, nor to act on it when I saw it was good; else had we never won our way."
"That's true, and I own but for your cursed cool judgment we should all have been strung up like so many weasels."
Over this interchange of civilities they drank another cup and shook hands. Then Parsons started off in high good-humor:
"Here's how I see it. Sir Harry will make you captain of the Adventurer; for why? There's no man so fit; and he'll very like make me master of this ship under him, as being best able to navigate her and the like. The men will be fairly divided between the two ships as heretofore. Now, as soon as we set sail I shall make it so cursedly uncomfortable for the foolish fellows of my crew that they shall pray to be exchanged into your ship. To this I shall persuade Sir Harry, taking in their place all those men disposed to our design."
"So we get all the simpletons under me, and all the desperadoes under you," says Rodrigues.
"That's it. And matters being so, I will open out our scheme to my crew, who will jump