CHAPTER XX

IN PURSUIT OF THE MAUD

Louis Belgrave recalled the circumstances under which Bickling had applied to him for permission to go in the boat with the exploring expedition. He had asked to be taken with the young man, saying that he could be of service to him. Before he could say anything more the mate came on deck, and the cook seemed to be in mortal terror of him, for he had noticed the fright of the fellow at the moment.

It did not occur to Louis at the time that anything could be wrong in the arrangements for visiting the shore; but he realized now that the cook had discovered some signs of treachery on the part of Frinks; but his fears prevented him from uttering a word.

“It looks now as though you knew something about the trick which has been played upon us, Bickling,” continued Louis, more gentle in his manner than before.

“Which I didn’t know anything at all about it, sir, but which I thought there was something wrong goin’ on in the cabin, sir, and I did not know what,” pleaded Bickling.

“I am sorry you did not speak to me.”

“Which I should ’ave done if I ’ad known what was hup, sir.”

Though Louis had given the cook twenty-five dollars, rather for the service he rendered him and his party as cook than for any other reason, he could not feel that he had any claim upon the fidelity of the man. He had made an advance towards telling what he knew; but he was sadly wanting in pluck, and he had failed, so that the intention must be taken for the deed.

“Did you know that it was the mate’s purpose to abandon us on the shore, and return to the schooner?” asked Louis.

“Which I hope to die when my time comes, sir, if I ’ad the smallest idea of what he was goin’ to do, sir!” protested the cook vehemently. “If I ’ad, sir, I wouldn’t ’ave let you and the captain go in the boat. I thought I’d ’ave a chance to tell you what little I knew when you got to the shore. If I ’ad let Mr. Frinks know what I was tellin’ you, that would have spoiled, the ’ole, and the mate would have killed me dead on the spot, sir.”

“That is sensible, Louis,” interposed the captain. “He could not afford to blow on the mate; it was not safe for him to do so, as he did not belong on our side of the question.”

“Which the young gentleman has been very kind to me, and I was glad to do him a good turn if I could; and I am very sorry I could not, sir, which it is all I can say, sir,” pleaded the cook.

“He meant right, Louis, and it is a pity he had not a small portion of your pluck,” added the captain.

“Now tell me what you did know, Bickling,” continued Louis.

“I was trying to get to sleep, sir, on one of the sofas, when I ’eard a noise near the mate’s room. I looked that way, sir, but I did not move, and the mate thought I was asleep, no doubt. He unlocked the door of the stateroom, for he ’ad an extra key, and went in, sir. He shut the door after him; and then I heard him and the captain talking together.”

“Could you make out what they said?” asked Louis, not a little excited at the revelation of the cook.

“Not much of it, sir, which they did not talk out very loud, sir. They were to get possession of the vessel, but ’ow it was to be done, I did not ’ear, sir. I put my hear to the partition, and tried ’ard to understand what they said, sir. By this time I reckon they ’ad fixed the plan to get the vessel; and I heard Captain Farrongate, or whatsoever his name might be, say that he should go to Bermuda, sir, while the friends of the lady would go to Southampton to look for her, sir. That is all, sir, and every syllable I could make out, sir.”

The man had some education, and he did not mangle his h’s very badly unless he became very much excited. It was easy enough to see that he was one of those men of no force of character that are often met in the world, but are at the same time filled with good intentions. The plot to leave Louis and the captain on the shore to the westward of the creek, the cook insisted, had not been mentioned in his hearing. He had made out the last part of the conversation, and that certainly was very important as a guide to future movements.

During this narration the trio had been walking at a tolerably rapid pace towards the town, finding a footbridge over the creek, and had accomplished a good part of the distance. It was midnight, and most of the lights in the houses had been extinguished. Another quarter of an hour brought them to the few wharves in the place, for the party had kept near the shore of the bay all the way from the creek.

With the most intense interest on the part of Louis, they passed from one pier to another, till they had gone beyond the water front of the town. Not a steamer of any kind was there; no tug-boat had taken shelter from the storm within the bay, so far as they could discover. There was not a light to be seen on the waters of the bay, and the few vessels in port were all made fast to the wharves, where they were partially sheltered from the violence of the gale.

With the midnight hour came a change in the aspect of the weather, which Captain Ringgold was the first to observe. The wind was hauling to the westward, and it had been what he called a “dry storm.” He was confident that the sun would rise clear in the morning, for the wind had already measurably abated.

“That will be favorable to Scoble in getting away,” suggested Louis.

“Yes, it will help him to get clear of the coast. Though the Maud is a very bad sailer on the wind, she seemed to be a weatherly vessel, and I have no doubt, by this time, she is pounding against the seas outside of this bay. It is an awful pity that there is not a tug within hail of us; but there is not, and I don’t see that we can help ourselves.”

“At this moment I wish I owned that steam-yacht you were telling me about yesterday,” said Louis, who was musing sadly over the present hopeless situation.

“I wish you did! If you did, there would be music very soon at the heels of the Maud!” exclaimed Captain Ringgold. “But we must do something, and not stand here all night.”

“I feel just as though all our hands were tied behind us, and I don’t see that we can do anything,” added Louis.

“We must do something! I used to know a certain Captain Boulong who lived in this town. He was the master of a coaster formerly, but I have not seen him for two or three years.”

“Do you know his first name, captain?”

“I do; for he owed me a note, which he paid on time, and is an honest man. Captain Drench Boulong was his name, and is still if he is in the land of the living.”

“Then he is the mate of the Blanche, which is Mr. Woolridge’s yacht. I know him very well,” replied Louis, who had heard the captain of the yacht call him by his first name when they were in conversation.

“If he is the mate of a yacht he is not likely to be at home, though he may be. I know where his house used to be, and I can find it. We will look him up, for we have nothing better to do.”

Captain Ringgold led the way very directly to a small cottage on a side street, where he knocked loud enough to wake all the sleepers within a mile. The summons was effectual, for a man soon put his head out a window on the lower floor, and demanded who was there.

“Captain Royal Ringgold,” replied the gentleman from the Park.

“And Louis Belgrave,” added the young man.

“I know you both, and what can I do for you?” asked Mr. Boulong, whose voice was readily recognized.

“Is there a steamer of any sort to be had at this port?” inquired the captain.

“Not unless some tug has put into the Kills for the night.”

“We could not find one. Is there any sort of a craft to be had?”

“Possibly,” replied the mate of the Blanche. “Wait a moment, and I will let you in. Then we will see what can be done.”

A few minutes later Mr. Boulong opened the front door, and showed them into his little parlor. In as few words as possible Louis explained the situation, declaring that his mother was a prisoner on board of the Maud, at that moment, without doubt, proceeding to sea. He told all it was necessary to know in order to understand the unfortunate dilemma of Mrs. Belgrave. The mate asked some questions, which were promptly answered.

“We brought the Blanche down here yesterday to clean her bottom, and she is at anchor just below the town, where there is a beach. I suppose you know that Captain Alcorn lives here as well as myself, Louis?” added Mr. Boulong. “As you and your mother are good friends of our owner, he may be able to do something for you, as I am sure Mr. Woolridge would if he were on the ground. If you will wait a few minutes I will call up Captain Alcorn; or we will go to his house if you like.”

The party attended the mate to the residence of the captain of the yacht. He listened to the story of Louis, and then immediately volunteered to pursue the Maud in the Blanche. They proceeded to the beach off which the yacht was anchored, stopping at the railroad station to send a night message to the owner. All the ship’s company of the Blanche were on board; the captain hailed the vessel, and the anchor watch sent a boat for the party. All hands were astir when the party reached the vessel, and in a very short time she was under way, standing towards the entrance to the inlet.

“You say the Maud is bound to Bermuda, Louis,” said Captain Alcorn, after the yacht was fairly under way.

“That is what Bickling, the cook of the schooner, overheard Captain Scoble say,” replied Louis.

“The wind has got round to the westward; it is fairing off, and we shall have a good day,” continued the captain of the yacht. “As near as I can make it out, the Maud must have got under way about half-past eleven last night.”

“That was about the time,” added Captain Ringgold. “The wind has come round so that she can turn out her reefs and make a fair wind of it.”

“Even if the Maud is bound to Bermuda, Captain, do you believe she will lay her course from Sandy Hook to the islands?” asked Captain Alcorn. “I believe you were in the navy in the war as well as myself, and you know what it is to chase an enemy even with no more than four hours the start of you.”

“I was telling Louis this morning that my ship followed the Alabama for months without getting a sight at her,” replied the shipmaster.

“The Maud has the advantage over any man-of-war enemy, for she can go into any port she pleases,” suggested Captain Alcorn. “This Scoble, from what you have told me, is aware that his vessel is not a high-flyer. After the mischief he has done, or the crime he has committed, he may reasonably expect to be pursued by some fast craft.”

“But he is not aware that we know he is bound to Bermuda, and if we chase him at all he will suppose we will follow him to Southampton,” said Louis.

“Very true, and there is a good deal in that. Now, I believe the fellow will skulk into some inlet or bay where there is little or no population, and remain there concealed till he is satisfied any pursuers are half-way across the Atlantic,” added the captain of the yacht.

“I have considered that idea very faithfully, and I think it is a reasonable supposition.”

“There are plenty of openings all along the New Jersey coast, and probably Scoble went into one of them to have his vessel painted.”

The course was agreed upon between the two sea-captains.