CHAPTER XX.

“A YANKEE SHIP AND A YANKEE CREW.”

Mr. Frisbone and his wife and Miss Rodwood were none the worse for the benevolent service they had rendered on board of the Castle William. The small-pox patients, as stated before, had been separated by the mate from the rest of the people in the forward part of the vessel. The sanitary measures devised by Mrs. Frisbone, and carried out by her husband, had wrought a wonderful change on board; and, when the vessel arrived at Portsmouth, the condition of the sick had greatly improved. The quarantine regulations were relaxed as much as possible in favor of the devoted nurses; but the ladies, who had been more exposed than the Prince, were not permitted to leave the limits of the hospital for a few days.

As soon as the Ville d’Angers anchored in the harbor of Portsmouth, Gregory sent a message by the steward, that he wished to see the captain. As soon as O’Hara had leisure to attend to the matter, he requested Shakings to bring his prisoners into the cabin, hoping they had repented of the folly which had induced them to “stand out,” as they expressed it. The boatswain promptly produced the mutineers, and, touching his cap, was about to retire; but O’Hara desired him to remain.

Gregory appeared, looking more defiant, if possible, than when he was committed. For nearly a week he had been kept in his state-room. The captain had offered to allow him and Clinch to take an airing on the poop-deck every day for a couple of hours, under the eye of the boatswain, who was not to permit them to speak to any of the ship’s company; but both of them indignantly declined the proposition,--they would not go on deck as prisoners.

“As I seem to be subject to your will and pleasure, O’Hara, I wish to say that you have carried this thing about far enough,” said the ex-first officer, when he came into the presence of the captain.

“That’s just my idea,” added Clinch, turning up his nose to express his contempt for the young commander of the steamer.

“If you wish to see me in order to intimidate me, I have nothing to say,” replied the captain, with dignity; but he was greatly disappointed at the tone and manner of the mutineers.

“I think we were clearly in the right in refusing to do duty when you were running away with the vessel,” continued Gregory.

“I do not care to argue the matter,” added O’Hara.

“I want to know who is right.”

“The principal will decide that in due time.”

“The principal is not here to decide any thing.”

“We can only wait till we see him.”

“I don’t intend to wait!” said Gregory angrily. “I shall go on shore.”

“At present the steamer is quarantined; and no one is allowed to leave her,” answered O’Hara.

“That’s another scrape you’ve got us into!” blustered the rebel.

The captain made no reply to this taunt.

“There has been no show for the officers from the Josephine in this steamer,” continued Gregory. “Mr. Shakings, I think you ought to see fair play, at least, when an officer of your own ship is treated in this way.”

“All the boatswain has to do is to obey the captain’s orders,” replied Shakings; but he looked as though he had something else to say if the occasion should require it.

“Come, Clinch, let’s go on shore,” said Gregory, beginning to move towards the door.

“Mr. Shakings, these officers are still in your keeping,” added the captain.

“There is no going on shore for any one in this vessel,” interposed the stout forward officer, as he placed himself in front of the rebels. “You will return to your rooms.”

“I won’t do it!” protested Gregory savagely, as he made a spring towards the door.

“I think you will, my beauty,” added the boatswain, as he collared the rebel, and dragged him to his room.

Without any ceremony, he shoved him into the apartment, and locked the door upon him. Clinch had not the pluck to make a forcible resistance; and he went to his room without the assistance of Shakings.

“I don’t see that I can do any thing else with Gregory and Clinch,” said O’Hara, when the boatswain had secured his prisoners.

“I think you are using them very gently,” replied Shakings. “Mr. Fluxion will keep them in the brig a month for this, and send them out of the cabin with the lowest numbers in the ship.”

“I only wish to keep them from leading any of the other officers or seamen away from their duty,” added O’Hara.

“There is not the least danger of that: every man from the Josephine will stand by you to the end.”

As intimated in the newspaper the vice-principal had read at Funchal, Mr. Frisbone was negotiating with the owners of the Castle William for the settlement of the salvage; but little progress was made till the discharge of the Prince from the quarantine, which was done at the end of a week. The vessel and cargo were acknowledged to be worth ten thousand pounds; and the Prince accepted one-half of this sum. The owners of the Ville d’Angers were more exacting, and declined to settle the claim. Proceedings had been instituted as soon as the vessel arrived; and, a few days later, the court decreed that one-half of her value should be paid by the owners to the salvors. The vessel was to be sold at public vendue to determine her value; and the shrewd agent of the owners was satisfied that a French craft, sold in an English port, would bring but a mere song.

The Prince was discharged from quarantine in season to attend the auction. The agent expected no competition in the bidding. His first bid was four thousand pounds; then the Prince added another thousand, and continued to increase upon the agent till the sum of thirteen thousand pounds was reached; and then the first bidder had a cold sweat, for his instructions allowed him to bid no more. The steamer was struck off to the Prince for “a thousand better.”

The agent was confounded, and the Prince was in excellent humor. He had to pay only a half of the purchase-money, for the other half belonged to the salvors. But the agent had new instructions when it was too late; and he offered the Prince another thousand, and then two and three, for his bargain, but the buyer declined to sell.

“What do you want of that steamer?” asked Mrs. Frisbone, when he told her what he had done.

“I think we will all go to Madeira in her,” replied Mr. Frisbone, laughing. “I have been bothered to know what to do with the ship’s company of the steamer; and this settles the question. Besides, the vessel is worth more than I pay for her.”

The Prince hastened on board of the Ville d’Angers to inform the officers what he had done, and to have her prepared for the voyage to Funchal. Everybody on board was pleased with the result of the Prince’s operations, unless it was the prisoners in their state-rooms.

The steamer was immediately hauled into the dock, her cargo taken out of her, for that had been sold “on account of whom it might concern,” and the proceeds had added over eight hundred pounds to the result of the expedition to England. Then she ran up to Southampton, where she coaled and took in a supply of provisions on the most liberal scale. By the morning of the 21st, she was ready to sail; and not a moment was lost in getting under way.

The French and Italian firemen had been discharged, and sent home by the agent of the owners. Another set was employed for the voyage, and two young English engineers were added to the force in the engine-room. In fact, the vessel was fitted out as if she were to go around the world. She had been ballasted so as to put her into the best sailing-trim when the coal in her bunkers should be reduced.

The article in the newspaper had drawn considerable attention to the steamer; and when she sailed there was quite a crowd to witness her departure.

“Where are you bound, captain?” asked a young man, as O’Hara was about to get into the boat which was waiting for him.

“To Funchal, in the island of Madeira,” replied the young captain, hardly looking at the inquirer; for he had been tormented with questions ever since he put his foot on the shore.

The person who asked the question was not more than twenty-two years of age, and was accompanied by another young man about his own age. Both of them were dressed in travelling suits of gray; and they appeared to belong to the better class of English people.

“I beg your pardon for troubling you, captain,” persisted the inquirer.

“If I can be of any service to you, I shall be happy; but, upon my sowl, I am in a hurry,” replied O’Hara pleasantly.

“It’s only a moment for another question. Could you by any possibility take a couple of passengers along with you?”

“The steamer is not a passenger-vessel,” answered the captain.

“I am well aware of that; but it would be a great accommodation to us; for you see we lost the last steamer to Funchal by a delay caused by a railway accident.”

“I do not feel at liberty to take passengers; and I shall be obliged to refer you to the agent of the principal, Mr. Frisbone,” added O’Hara.

“This gentleman is Sir Philip Grayner, baronet,” said the young man with the applicant for a passage.

O’Hara thought he was rather young to be a baronet, but it was possible to succeed to the title at an early age. But he was not particularly impressed by the fact. The information had been imparted to him as though it was confidential, and he made no use of it.

“Where can I find Mr. Frisbone?” asked the baronet, renewing the attack.

“He is on board of the steamer.”

“And how soon do you sail?”

“In the course of an hour.”

“Thank you, captain,” replied Sir Philip Grayner. “The gentleman with me is Lord Fillgrove,” he added in a low tone.

“Another sprig of nobility,” thought O’Hara, as he descended to the boat.

The well-trained crew gave way at the order of the coxswain, and the cutter was soon alongside of the Ville d’Angers. The vessel was only waiting for the pilot; but the time fixed for him to be on board had not yet arrived. The cutter was hoisted up at the davits, and secured for the voyage. The other cutter had not yet returned from the shore, where she had gone with a party of the students who had liberty to visit the city. Leave had been freely granted; and in no case had it been abused, so far as the officers were aware. If any of the young men had drank beer, or other dangerous fluids, their condition when they returned did not indicate such indulgence.

About half an hour after the return of the captain, a boat containing the two applicants for passage to Funchal, with their bags and luggage, came alongside. The bringing of their baggage implied that they had a strong expectation of obtaining what they desired. They were permitted to come on board, and presented their application to the Prince.

“We are entirely willing to pay our passage,” said the baronet.

“By all means, we shall do that,” added the one with the lordly title.

“That is no particular object with us,” replied the Prince. “We should not take you for the money you may pay.”

“We will at least pay for our diet and the wines we drink,” said Sir Philip.

“We don’t sell rum on this steamer,” replied Mr. Frisbone, very decidedly. “If you can’t get along without wine, I think you had better take passage in some other vessel. We don’t furnish any thing to drink for anybody; and, what’s more, we don’t allow any wine or liquor to be used about the steamer.”

“That’s a matter of no consequence,” added Sir Philip, looking at his companion, and giving him a sly wink when he was sure he was not observed.

“We don’t care if we never have any thing in the shape of wine or liquor,” the young lord agreed.

“What’s your name?” asked the Prince bluntly of the first speaker.

“This gentleman is Sir Philip Grayner,” said his lordship.

“And my friend is Lord Fillgrove,” added the baronet.

“Then you are dooks and lords,” continued Mr. Frisbone; but he seemed to be pleased at the idea of meeting them.

“My friend is a viscount,” replied Sir Philip.

“And mine is a baronet,” said Lord Fillgrove.

“All right!” exclaimed Mr. Frisbone, in his usual loud tone. “I am an American Prince myself.”

The Prince talked with Capt. O’Hara and with Capt. Fairfield about the matter; and it was agreed that the passengers would be a pleasant addition to the ship’s company. There were some spare state-rooms; for the space between decks, called the “second cabin,” had been fitted up for the crew, and it was a very light and airy place for them. They preferred it to the main cabin; and it was more conducive to good discipline to have the officers farther removed from the seamen.

Each of the passengers took his choice of the state-rooms not in use. The Prince introduced them to his wife and her sister under their full titles.

“This is a very unexpected pleasure, Prince Frisbone,” said Sir Philip. “I was not aware that we were to have the pleasure of ladies’ society on the voyage.”

“Prince Frisbone!” exclaimed the worthy machinist, laughing heartily. “That sounds odd.”

“I beg your pardon; but I think you told me you were an American Prince; and, as you did not dispute my title, I am not disposed to deny your claim,” answered Sir Philip.

“I suppose your title is a little more regular than mine; but we won’t quarrel about these trifles,” added the Prince. “This is now a ‘Yankee ship and a Yankee crew;’ and I have an idea that one man is as good as another on board of her.”

“No doubt of it; but I perceive that there is a great difference between the officers and the seamen,” suggested Lord Fillgrove.

“Not a bit of difference. No. 24 is just as good as the captain,” protested the American nobleman.

“But one commands, and the other obeys.”

“That’s true; but we don’t have any classes of citizens. The day-laborer on town-meeting day is the equal of the man worth a million that hires him; and any fellow before the mast in this vessel may be captain of her the very next month. Here is Capt. O’Hara: when he was at this port last, he was a seaman; and next month he may be a seaman again.”

“I hope not,” said O’Hara, laughing. “But I heard that the principal and the faculty were getting up a new way to fill the offices on board of the vessels of the squadron; and some of us may slip up when it is applied.”

“It’s all very democratic,” added Lord Fillgrove.

The coming of the pilot put an end to the conversation, though the two young “sprigs of nobility” made themselves as agreeable as possible to the ladies, whom they escorted to the hurricane-deck so as to afford them an opportunity to observe the scenery of “Southampton Water” and “The Solent,” as the steamer went to sea.

The anchor had been heaved up to a short stay; and, as soon as the pilot was on the deck, the order was given to man the capstan again. The young tars were wide awake, and the pilot said he had never seen a steamer better handled than the Ville d’Angers was on this occasion.

In a couple of hours the steamer was off the Needles, and the pilot was discharged. Capt. O’Hara was his own navigator, though Tom Speers and first officer Lawring also worked up the problems, and drew off the courses from the chart, to verify the captain’s work. The first course was from the Needles, the point of “departure,” to Ushant. The weather was delightful, and all on board were happy except the two malecontents in their state-rooms. The extra engineers were intelligent and agreeable men, and the firemen were a great improvement upon the French and Italian ones.

Gregory and Clinch had several times been offered the liberty of the deck, under the charge of the boatswain; and the offer had been declined. But the captain and the instructor did not consider it prudent to allow them to hold any communication with the officers and seamen of the vessel, for Gregory was still in a mood to foment a mutiny.

The steward who carried their meals to the prisoners gave them the current news of the day, so far as he obtained it himself; and they were tolerably well posted. After the sale of the steamer to the Prince, the aspect of the case began to change, as the mutineers viewed it. They had expected that the Ville d’Angers would be given up to the owners, and the ship’s company sent to Madeira in a passenger-steamer. That had been the talk before the mutiny. Gregory was confident that the change from the vessel to the packet would afford them an opportunity to escape from the rule of Capt. O’Hara and the instructor.

The ex-first officer was the son of a rich man, an Englishman who had been naturalized in New York. He had a letter of credit for a large amount, and he was fully determined not to return to the squadron. This hope faded away when the steward told him the steamer had been purchased by the Prince, and would sail for Madeira as soon as possible. He was appalled at the idea. He was sure Mr. Fluxion would degrade him to the lowest number in the Josephine; and he was too proud and haughty to tolerate for an instant the thought of such a humiliation.

He wanted to consult with Clinch about the present situation. He knew that the state-room of his fellow-conspirator was next to his own; but he dared not attempt to converse with him through the partition, lest they should be heard by the officers in the cabin, and another room be assigned to one of them. When the steamer began to move, he listened attentively at the door; but no sound came from that direction. The bull’s-eye in his room was open, and he could hear voices on the deck above him.

He knocked on the partition to attract the attention of Clinch; and he had often done so before, though the conspirators had been unable to make each other understand more than a few words. His companion in misery promptly replied to his call.

“Make a hole in the partition,” said he; and he rapped several times to indicate the place for it.

“All right,” replied Clinch.

But they had to repeat what they said several times before they could be understood. Gregory had given his present plan careful consideration. He had selected a spot behind the dressing-case that was fastened to the bulkhead. With his pocket-knife he had removed the screws from the case, and arranged it so that he could restore it at an instant’s notice.

Clinch’s dressing-case was on the other side of the partition, and the aperture to be made could be concealed on Clinch’s side in the same manner as on his own. As soon as the case was removed, he went to work with his knife. The partition was a double one, composed of boards extending diagonally, but from opposite angles in the two rooms.

After half an hour’s diligent work he had cut a hole half an inch in diameter through one thickness of the partition. He had spread a towel under the place where he was working, to receive the chips, so that they should not betray him. It was not so easy to cut through the second board; it could be better done by Clinch on the other side. Taking one of the gimlet-screws he had removed from the dressing-case, he turned it with his knife till he had passed it through the second board. He then unscrewed it, and enlarged the hole with a small blade of his knife, till it would admit the lead pencil he carried in his pocket.

The dressing-case consisted of a looking-glass, under which was a rack for bottles and glasses, and a couple of small drawers. He had made the hole where the back of one of these drawers had been. With the lead pencil, he pushed the drawer in Clinch’s room out as far as the length of the implement used would permit. His fellow-conspirator observed the movement of the drawer, and removed it from the case. He saw the hole, and fully comprehended the plan of his friend.

“Take out the screws from the dressing-case,” said Gregory, with his mouth at the aperture.

Clinch complied with the request without making any reply; for he was afraid he should be heard, and the plan spoiled before it was carried out.

“All right,” said he, when he could get his mouth close to the hole.

“Cut out the hole till it is as large as on this side. Put your towel down so as to save the chips,” replied Gregory, in a low tone.

Clinch went to work, and in a short time he had made the aperture of the same size all the way through. But half an inch was rather small, and they enlarged it to an inch, which would enable them to talk with less danger of being heard. The dressing-cases were then restored to their former positions. Gregory had improved upon his plan as the work proceeded; and it was necessary to remove only the drawers on each side when they wished to talk together. Each could call the attention of the other by shoving out the drawer. If any one came to the door of either state-room while the contrivance was in use, it could be concealed by restoring the drawer.

“How are you now?” asked Gregory, when the cases had been replaced.

“All right! this is a first-class arrangement,” replied Clinch.

“Put your mouth close-up to the case, and speak very low,” added Gregory, who was as much pleased with his invention as though it had been a useful machine.

“I will,” answered Clinch in a whisper. “Can you hear me?”

“Very distinctly. The steamer is in still water now; and we may have to speak louder when she gets to sea.”

“I heard some strange voices in the cabin before the steamer sailed. Do you know who they are?” asked Clinch.

“I don’t. I have not heard them since the screw began to turn,” answered Gregory. “I believe I have heard one of the voices before; but I can’t think whose it is now.”

“It may be some friend of yours. Your folks are English.”

“But they all live in Lancashire; and none of them are likely to be in this part of England.”

“We can find out who they are when the steward brings our dinner,” added Clinch.

“I don’t suppose it makes much difference to us who the strangers are. Things look black enough on this side of the house,” said Gregory, in a rather desponding tone.

“So they do on this side,” replied Clinch. “We can be a little more sociable than we have been; and that’s all.”

“I don’t give it up yet.”

“Give what up?”

“Getting out of this scrape.”

“I don’t see any way out of it.”

A footstep in the cabin caused them both to insert the drawers, and close the conversation.