CHAPTER XXIII.

CARRYING OUT THE PROGRAMME.

Capt. O’Hara went on shore as soon as the Ville d’Angers dropped her anchor in the harbor of Funchal. After considerable inquiry he found the agent of the principal, and was very much surprised to learn that the fleet had sailed for the Canary Islands, leaving no instructions for him. The agent, or banker, knew nothing whatever of the intentions of Mr. Lowington, nor even where the academy squadron was going from the Canaries.

When the fleet sailed from Funchal, Mr. Lowington and the vice-principals had no doubt whatever that the absent students would return to the Madeiras by the mail-steamer which would arrive the last of the month. For this reason the principal had not thought to leave any instructions for O’Hara. They were all confident they should find the party domiciled at a hotel on their arrival from the Canaries, or on board of the packet, if the fleet arrived before her. The problem was simple enough; and there appeared to be no chance for a failure to connect.

O’Hara was on shore a couple of hours in his search for the banker, and in looking up what information he could obtain in regard to the fleet. As soon as the island of Porto Santo was seen from the fore-top of the steamer, Gregory and Clinch began to be very nervous about the prospect ahead. They feared that the Josephine was still at Funchal, in spite of Gregory’s theory to the contrary. Whatever disposition was made of the rest of the ship’s company of the steamer, they were sure they should be handed over to the senior vice-principal on board of the schooner. They would at once be sent into the steerage of the vessel; and this they regarded as the worst fate that could possibly befall them.

Since they had the liberty of the steamer, they had been planning all sorts of wild expeditions with the “sprigs,” who had the highest opinion of the enterprise of Gregory. They did not care for Clinch; but they would rather take him than lose his companion in rebellion. They all desired to see the island of Madeira; and they were willing to stay there a month or more in the springtime. After this, though their plans were not yet clearly defined, they intended to visit other islands of the Atlantic, and then go to the United States. Gregory was at home there, and would be of service to them.

“All this is very nice,” said Gregory, after the land had been reported; “but it will be all up with me as soon as we get to Funchal. I shall be sent on board of the vessel to which I belong; and that will be the last you will see of me.”

“Nonsense!” exclaimed his British cousin. “We are to get you out of this in some way.”

“How are you to get me out of it? That’s the question,” replied Gregory. “It is not so easy a thing as you seem to imagine.”

“I don’t know just how: I had not considered that. We can’t very well make the plan till we see the situation.”

“There is no situation about it, Phil. After the vessel comes to anchor, I shall be sent on board of the Josephine, and that will be the end of it.”

“Don’t croak, Dave!” protested Sir Philip, with some impatience in his manner. “The health officer will have to see you and Clinch when he visits the ship, just as they do in those bloody ports up the Mediterranean, where I spent my last vacation. After that, we can fix things all right.”

“I don’t believe you can,” added Gregory dubiously. “If we wait till that time, it will be all up with me.”

“Not at all! I will tell you just how I will do it now, for I am beginning to get an idea,” continued the Briton. “You are about my size, and don’t look very unlike me. I shall pretend I have an ague, or a cold in the head, or something of that kind. After I have said good-by to the ladies and others, I will conceal myself in some part of the vessel. Then you will put on my mackintosh, cap, and muffler. You will cover your face, so that they will not know it is not I, and get into the boat, which we will have at the steps of the gangway beforehand. It shall be a shore-boat, and no one will know any thing about the little trick.”

Sir Philip Grayner rubbed his hands as though he was delighted with the ingenuity of the plan he had devised, and he thought it was very “clever.”

“What will you do?” asked Gregory, who thought the plan might work.

“When you have had time to put yourself into a safe place, I will show myself. Of course they will be surprised to see me; and I shall be obliged to confess that I have played a bit of a Yankee trick upon them.”

“Then they will know I have gone.”

“No matter if they do, after you are secure on shore. But very likely they will find that you have gone before I show myself. I can get the boatman to come back to the ship after he has landed you, and then I can say that I have come on board again after something I had left in my state-room; and I can leave something there to make it seem all right. Of course you will take all my luggage with you when you go on shore.”

“Perhaps that will all work very well, so far as I am concerned; but how about Clinch?” asked Gregory.

“Oh, bother about Clinch!” exclaimed the Briton. “We don’t want him any way. He will spoil the whole thing; and this will be a good plan to get rid of him.”

“But he has stood by me in all this business; and I can’t desert him,” answered Gregory. “It would be mean for me to do that.”

“But Lord Fillgrove must go in the boat with you, and come back with the boatman. It won’t look regular if he don’t,” protested Sir Philip. “I don’t see any way to get Clinch out of the steamer, unless we get him into the boat in some manner before you and Fillgrove get in. You can manage that better than I can; for you know the rules of your bloody ships, and I do not.”

“Shakings overlooks every boat that comes to the steamer, or leaves it. We couldn’t get Clinch into the boat any more than we could get the engine into it,” replied Gregory.

“Then you must leave him on board, unless you are willing to give up the journeys we have planned.”

“I am not willing to give them up, or to give up Clinch.”

“I’ll tell you what we can do. Tell Clinch I have a scheme by which I shall get him out of the ship after you and Fillgrove have gone,” suggested the Briton.

“What is the scheme?” demanded Gregory.

“I haven’t it ready yet; but I will think of it.”

“Then it’s only to get rid of him; and I will not consent to that,” protested Gregory. But, if he had been entirely candid, he would have admitted that he did not care so much for Clinch’s company as he had before, now that he had better associates,--a baronet and a viscount.

“I don’t mean to get rid of your friend, though I don’t care for him. There are a dozen means of getting him out of the ship; and I shall fix upon one before we reach the harbor,” replied Sir Philip. “I see it now! When you get on shore, you can get some young fellow, dressed in poor clothes, to come on board with Fillgrove; and Clinch shall change his uniform for that of the stranger, and go on shore in his place. That will work like a charm!”

The Briton was entirely satisfied with the scheme; and Gregory was rather pleased with it, though he was not so sanguine of its success as his cousin. He had a talk with Clinch on the subject; and that worthy was willing to assent to any thing that promised to release him from his captivity, and save him from the degradation of being sent into the steerage of the Josephine.

It was about noon when the Ville d’Angers dropped her anchor off the Loo Rock. The health officers promptly presented themselves; and all hands were obliged to show themselves on the rail of the vessel, to assure the official that the persons named in the papers were well and hearty. As soon as this formality had been complied with, the captain ordered out his boat to go on shore; for all the surprise and consternation at not finding the academy squadron in the harbor had been expressed before the steamer anchored.

Plenty of shore-boats were within hailing distance of the gangway; and Gregory, as had been arranged, “went into retirement.” The mackintosh, cap, and other articles belonging to Sir Philip had been placed where they would be available as soon as the mutineer needed his disguise. Capt. Fairfield was conducting his recitations in the after-part of the cabin; and the exercises were not interrupted by the arrival of the vessel in port, as the watch on deck was sufficient to anchor the steamer. As soon as the health examination was finished, the recitations were resumed. The mutineers had not been asked to attend to their studies, for the reason that it would bring them into too close relations with the members of the starboard watch.

“But the academy vessels are not here!” exclaimed Sir Philip, seeking Gregory in his retirement.

“So much the better!” ejaculated the malecontent.

“But what will the captain of the steamer do? he was confident of finding all the squadron here,” added the Briton.

“I don’t know what he will do; and he is not likely to take me into his confidence,” said Gregory.

“The captain has gone on shore; and I dare say he will do as Prince Frisbone advises him to do.”

“I suppose he will.”

“Then we will wait till the captain returns before we do any thing,” continued Sir Philip.

“Don’t do that!” exclaimed Gregory, appalled at the suggestion. “What do you want to wait for?”

“As the squadron isn’t here, very likely this steamer will go on to some other place.”

“Let it go! I don’t care whither it goes if I can only get out of it!” exclaimed Gregory.

“But I rather like this sort of life. I have had a jolly good time since I came on board of the Ville d’Angers; and I am in no hurry to leave her if she is going farther, and the captain, or rather Prince Frisbone, will allow me to do so.”

“I don’t want to go any farther in her!” protested Gregory, disgusted with the proposition of his cousin. “I am a prisoner on board of this vessel; and, if you intend to remain any longer in her, I shall get out of her before she leaves Funchal if I can. That’s the kind of a codfish I am.”

“But if the Josephine isn’t here, they can’t send you back to her, you know,” added the sprig.

“That’s very true; but if she had been here, the captain wouldn’t have gone on shore, and they would have bundled me on board of her before this time,” growled Gregory, utterly dissatisfied with the present situation of his affairs. “Don’t you see that I can get off twice as well now that the captain and his boat’s crew have left the ship?”

“Upon my word, I believe you are more than half right, Dave!” exclaimed the Briton.

“Your plan wouldn’t have worked at all, if the fleet had been in the harbor. Don’t you see that Fluxion would have been alongside the steamer as soon as the health officer would let him do so? He would miss me at once, for I am one of his officers, and would ask for me. That would bring out the captain’s story, and I should be looked up at once. We are in luck as it is; and I am in favor of attending to the business at this very moment, and before the captain gets back.”

“All right! and to oblige you, Dave, I will give up the idea of making a longer cruise in the Ville d’Angers,” replied Sir Philip. “I will go on deck, and hail a boat.”

He had hardly gone before Clinch joined Gregory. They had a conference in regard to Clinch’s prospect of getting off if his companion succeeded; and Gregory assured him he was almost sure that the plan relating to his friend would work even better than the one for his own escape. Clinch was satisfied with this answer, and was confident that his companion would stand by him.

On deck Sir Philip found only Speers, the second officer, and four seamen. Capt. O’Hara had taken Raymond with him for the reason that the latter could speak the Portuguese language. The engineers were all busy with the machinery. Speers was studying his lessons in the pilot-house, as he did every moment of the time when he was not on duty. O’Hara, as has been stated before, had spoken of a new method of making the promotions, which had come to his knowledge. The captain and the other officers of the steamer were intensely interested in this information, and they wished to be prepared for it, whatever it proved to be; for they had no knowledge of the nature of the new method.

O’Hara and Speers had been studying with all their might, in order to be ready for any thing. What the new method was, the students had the privilege of guessing; and they could not well help using it. The captain thought it must be a new system of marking the value of the students’ work; but the second officer felt very confident that the promotions were to be made by the results of a monthly examination. Each argued for his own view, and each continued to struggle to put himself in condition for any thing.

Sir Philip and Lord Fillgrove ventured to interrupt the studies of the officer of the deck long enough to say good-by to him. Tom shook hands with them, responding to their expressions of good-will, and then resumed his study; for he was in the middle of a difficult problem in navigation, and he did not wish to lose the run of it.

The two sprigs bade farewell to the Prince and the ladies, who were making their preparations to go on shore. They took leave of Capt. Fairfield and the officers of the starboard watch in a body, and then hastened out of the cabin. Calling a boat to the gangway, the steward put their luggage into it; and then Sir Philip hastened below to carry out the more difficult part of the programme. All things worked perfectly, and he did not find it necessary at present to act the farce of being sick or having the ague. The day was quite cool; and this was a good reason for putting on an overcoat, especially as there was considerable sea in the harbor.

“Now we are all ready!” exclaimed the Baronet, in a low tone, as he joined his cousin in the smoking-room, an apartment which had been used during the voyage only by the Britons.

“Who’s on deck?” asked Gregory very nervously.

“Mr. Speers is in the pilot-house studying his navigation; and there are some seamen about the deck; but all is working well. I have the luggage in the boat, and Fillgrove has put on his ulster so as to be in keeping with you. Here is the mackintosh, Dave; on with it,” continued Sir Philip, taking the coat from the peg where he had hung it.

Gregory put on the garment, and put the muffler around his neck, concealing his face below the nose. Sir Philip jammed his Scotch cap down over his eyes, and it would have been difficult for any one to discover the deception. No one on board would have suspected that the coat did not contain a young baronet.

“Now, here is a sovereign to blind the eyes of the steward if he looks too closely at you,” continued the Briton, as he opened the door of the smoking-room. “Don’t stop a moment till you are in the boat.”

Gregory left the room, and hastened to the gangway, where the steward, who had waited on the sprigs at the table, stood by the side of the other passenger.

“You will be warm enough in that coat and those mufflers,” said the steward, as Gregory approached the steps.

“This blasted water is very rough and cold,” interposed Lord Fillgrove, turning up the collar of his ulster. “It is best to keep the bloody stuff outside of you.”

“So it is, my lord,” replied the man.

At this moment Gregory handed the steward the money the baronet had given him for the purpose, though his companion had distracted the attention of the man.

“God bless you, Sir Philip!” exclaimed the grateful steward, as he put the sovereign in his pocket; and no doubt he wished the steamer had more passengers of the same sort, for his lordship had “tipped” him in the same amount.

Gregory hurried down the steps into the boat, and seated himself in the stern-sheets. The Portuguese boatman pushed off, and in a moment more was pulling his fare to the shore.

“This won’t do!” exclaimed Gregory, when the boat had gone but a short distance.

“What won’t do?” asked Lord Fillgrove.

“The boatman is headed towards the usual landing-place; and the captain’s boat is there, waiting for him.”

“I don’t see that we can help ourselves,” replied his lordship.

“Tell the fellow to pull us to some other place!” persisted Gregory, in mortal terror lest Raymond should discover him when he went on shore.

“But you can’t land anywhere else; the custom-house blackguards will have to overhaul the luggage, don’t you know?”

There was no help for it, and Gregory had to submit to the course of events. But Lord Fillgrove volunteered to do all the talking, and suggested that his companion should pretend to have the toothache, or the ague, or something of that sort. The boat carried them to the usual landing-place; and the boatman handed the baggage out upon the mole. The custom-house officers were very indulgent, and did not detain them beyond a few moments.

The captain’s boat was lying near the shore, and Raymond sat in the stern-sheets. He could not help seeing the passengers; and his lordship waved his adieus; but the fourth officer of the Ville d’Angers did not seem to be satisfied with this parting, and ordered the bowman to pull the boat in to the shore. The officer landed, and seized the hand of Lord Fillgrove.

“I am sorry you are going to leave us,” said he.

“And Sir Philip and I have shed tears at the necessity of saying good-by to you,” gushed his lordship.

“But what is the matter with Sir Philip?” asked Raymond, wondering that he was so distant and unsocial, when they had been on excellent terms on board of the steamer.

“You must excuse Sir Philip, for he is in terrible agony with a toothache which has just seized him. He is in such pain, that he can’t open his mouth,” replied Lord Fillgrove.

With one hand on his jaw, Gregory extended the other to Raymond, who warmly pressed it.

“I am sorry you are in such pain, Sir Philip; but I know what the toothache is, and I will not detain you a moment,” added Raymond, shaking the hand he held again.

Gregory hastened away, holding on to his jaw, and groaning audibly to heighten the deception; and, though Raymond had the credit of being a sharp officer, he did not suspect any thing wrong about the passengers. His lordship called a porter (or, rather, he selected one from a dozen who had called themselves), and directed the luggage to be carried to the principal hotel. In a few moments he overtook his companion, who had turned down the collar of his mackintosh, for he had suddenly recovered from his toothache, and seemed to be in good spirits for one who had been such a recent sufferer.

“That was cleverly done,” chuckled his lordship, as they followed the porter to the hotel.

“Nothing could have been better done; no Yankee could have managed it more neatly,” replied Gregory.

“No, I should say not! If that was a Yankee trick, we Britishers can play a good game at it,” said Lord Fillgrove, laughing.

A short walk brought them to the hotel, and they were assigned a room. As soon as the baggage had been brought in, they locked the door.

“Now what am I to do?” asked Gregory. “I am sure to be bagged if I stay here. As soon as I am missed, O’Hara will be after me with a sharp stick; or, more likely, he will send that bear of a Prince Frisbone to look me up.”

“You mustn’t stay in the town an hour!” exclaimed his lordship. “Have you any money to pay your expenses?”

“I have plenty of sovereigns,” answered Gregory.

“Those are the best money to have anywhere on Portuguese territory. Find a horse, and ride till you come to some town or village; and don’t let the grass grow under your feet.”

A couple of ponies were soon found, and a guide was engaged who spoke English. Thus prepared, Gregory hastened off. Lord Fillgrove returned to the mole, where he obtained a boat, and was pulled off to the ship. He had picked up a porter on his way, and had already given a liberal fee to both him and the boatman. He saw that the captain’s boat was still lying at the mole; but he gave it a wide berth this time, for he had no “blackguards of custom-house officers” to bother him. His lordship had brought back the mackintosh and other clothing of his fellow-passenger. Sir Philip put them on. He had Clinch in the smoking-room with him, and in a few moments the porter and the mutineer had exchanged garments. Sir Philip brought a carpet-bag he had left in his state-room, and Clinch was required to carry it to the gangway.

For some reason or other, Speers was on the poop-deck.