CHAPTER XXIX
HOW ADAM MET MUTINY—AND QUELLED IT
Day after day westward rolled the great Santissima Trinidad, manned by a crew that gradually, from savage contempt, learned to fear and then respect this small, masterful captain whose silvery, old man's hair was in such strange contrast with the flaming youth of his quick, keen eyes that, like his ears, missed so little of what chanced around him; this man in whose slim body dwelt soul of such potency and inexorable will, backed by an unexpected muscular strength and power of endurance. A captain this who showed so contemptuous of dangers and moreover so extremely ready and able for personal combat. Here, then, was a man for men to follow; and so, in the end, follow him they did, through storm and battle, defeat and triumph—many of them to—the very end.
Thus, day after day, these men were mustered and stood very reverently now, morning and evening, to be prayed over and exhorted; thereafter, and as regularly, they manned the guns, especially those great pieces of the lower tier, to load and fire, sponge, charge, ram and fire again and all at topmost speed, until the ship was veiled in smoke to her lofty topmasts. While this was doing, Sir Benjamin and Sir George, with their files of musketeers, were banging away at marks set afloat for the purpose; and standing alone upon the towering poop their little Captain watched all that was done, swift to admonish yet as quick to praise.
Now as Adam stood looking down on this great ship that was his to command and these sturdy fellows who were learning (he hoped) that discipline which should transform them from lawless rabble into a crew of hardy, self-respecting mariners and lusty fighting men, up to him came Ned Bowser, himself all that an English seaman should be from curly head to Spanish shoes.
"Cap'n Adam, sir," said he, lifting two fingers to bristly eyebrow, "seeing as how, sir, I begs to ax a favour."
"What is it, Ned?"
"Why, sir, seeing as how you've rose me above myself by making of me Master o' this yere ship Santa, and therefore quarterdeck officer where I don't nowise belong seeing as how my nat'ral rank is bo'sun, and nat'ral place the lower deck, to live and mess comfortably and nat'rally forrard instead of aft most on—nat'rally, and therefore discomfortably, along o' you and t'other gentlemen in the great cabin, I now axes you as a great favour, seeing as how, to be therefore ex-cused therefrom."
"Meaning you would liefer remain bo'sun, Ned."
"Pre-zackly, sir! For d'ye see, though you made me Master, Natur' and myself made me a bo'sun, which so being, bo'sun I'd be, according. Is it agreed, sir?"
"No, Ned. You are the primest seaman aboard; had you knowledge o' navigation you should be my lieutenant. You are also ... my good friend, like stout John Fenn. Ay, you and John are as my right and left hands ... men I shall ever trust. Also, Ned, as Master you will receive greater share of—our cargo. Therefore, Master you shall remain and mess whereso you will."
"Thankee, sir, and heartily."
"How think you of our crew now, Ned?"
"Better and better, sir,—though there be rank bad uns among 'em as no man couldn't tame nohow, nowise and nowhen. But for the most, sir, you be working wonders on 'em by working of 'em—constant. Good food, plenty o' work and a ready fist backed by justice—no crew could ax fairer."
"I sent Giles Tregenza to you this morning."
"Ay, sir, which as-tonished me, for you'll mind him as one o' the worst aboard yon galley, a fur'ous, ill-conditioned raskell. Up he comes and tells as how you says as how he is carpenter."
"True enough, so I did."
"But then he says, says he, as he can't, seeing as how he weren't never nowise apprenticed to the trade and therefore not able for to do justice to hisself, sir, or you,—and off he goes."
"An honest fellow, Ned."
"Or wilful and bone-idle, sir."
"Let us say 'honest'. Howbeit, a carpenter we must have. There should be one among so many."
"So there be, sir, ay and one o' the best and likewise worst, him being Toby Drew, as was carpenter aboard a King's ship once, but a precious black rogue now. Ay, one o' the four worst villins aboard yon galley. There was him and Tregenza and Will Vardon and Sam Morris always in trouble, and the lash only made 'em worse. You'll mind 'em, sir, seeing as you doctored 'em pretty frequent, 'specially that time as we fouled the wreckage and broke three oars as nigh tore their hands off in their shackles?"
"Ay, I remember," answered Adam, glancing down at his own scarred wrists. "We must bear these marks to our graves, Ned."
"Well—now, sir, these same four bad uns be ripe for mischief, ay and a-stirring up others! I've had my weather eye on 'em, so's Martin, and I've likewise got two of our Dreadnoughts a'watching of 'em constant."
"So?" murmured Adam, pinching his chin. "Then have this man Drew brought hither to me with show o' force, an armed escort, two of our lads shall suffice, and let this be done instantly, Ned."
So presently this man shambled aft between Timothy Sprake and Matthew Appleby, an ungainly, bow-legged fellow, scowling first on one, then the other, and lastly on Adam, who dismissed his two Dreadnoughts with a gesture.
"Well, Toby," said he, looking into the man's sullen eyes, "this is better than the galleasse."
"You works us pretty nigh as hard."
"Ay, I do indeed, and shall,—but with no irksome shackles or bloody lash—yet, not yet, Tobias. No man shall be flogged aboard my ship,—except he earn it, and then, 'stead o' one lash shall be nine!"
"Ha, so you'll dare threaten us wi' the cat, eh?"
"The cat, yes, Tobias, and thereafter plenty o' salt to heal bloody backs and then the bilboes. For, as I tell ye, on my ship I'll have——"
"'Tis no ship o' yourn!" quoth Tobias, fiercely. "She belongs to us—us as took her wi' naked hands and 'spite our chains! I says she's our ship, and therefore a free ship, and us to 'lect our own captain! Ay, and lookee you, Adam, as was no better than any of us aboard yon hellish galley, no nor so good, being only half a man, I'm telling ye she's our ship, and bloody end to them as shall gainsay us!"
"Howbeit, Tobias, I do gainsay ye!"
The man turned and spat, very ostentatiously, to leeward, and sneered:
"That's you!" he nodded. "Ay, you'll soon go overside! Ha!—ye don't think the likes o' you can trample the likes o' we, nor yet steal for yourself what belongs to us, do ye? We bides our time ... this here ship is for us—us as won her by our own sweat and blood!"
"Ah, blood!" repeated Adam, in musing tone, and crossing his arms, stood with head bowed as one very pensive, awhile. "Talking of blood, Toby," said he, at last, "you were never nigher to losing yours and your life than—now!" And speaking, he advanced a leisured pace or so, uncrossed his arms and Tobias Drew recoiled suddenly, staring horrified at the muzzles of the two small pistols so near his flinching body.
"You ... won't ... murder me...?"
"Let us say ... execute ye for insubordination. Why, you poor fool, without me you and like brutes would ha' been at each other's throats days ago and the half o' ye dead. Without me, to watch and navigate, you'd blunder into capture—death or the slave benches again. I'm life to ye all, your only hope for safety! Use that blockhead o' yours and know I speak truth. I'm your only hope, and ye threaten me with death—'overside' was your word! Now for this, on a King's ship, you would be hanged—you know this, don't you? I say you know this?"
"Ay, ay!" groaned Tobias, with fearful up-glance towards the great mainyard. "But this ... this ain't a King's ship, thank God, sir."
"No," sighed Adam, "therefore I may shoot ye now or have ye flogged to death anon, according to sea law. And this you know also."
Tobias licked his lips, glanced at the speaker's small, grim face and nodded miserably.