THE CAPTAIN KNUCKLES UNDER
Alan and I sat down to breakfast about six of the clock. The floor was
covered with broken glass and in a horrid mess of blood, which took away my
hunger. In all other ways we were in a situation not only agreeable but merry;
having ousted the officers from their own cabin, and having at command all the
drink in the ship -- both wine and spirits -- and all the dainty part of what
was eatable, such as the pickles and the fine sort of bread. This, of itself,
was enough to set us in good humour, but the richest part of it was this, that
the two thirstiest men that ever came out of Scotland (Mr. Shuan being dead)
were now shut in the fore-part of the ship and condemned to what they hated most
-- cold water.
"And depend upon it," Alan said, "we shall hear more of them ere long. Ye may
keep a man from the fighting, but never from his bottle."
We made good company for each other. Alan, indeed, expressed himself most
lovingly; and taking a knife from the table, cut me off one of the silver
buttons from his coat.
"I had them," says he, "from my father, Duncan Stewart; and now give ye one
of them to be a keepsake for last night's work. And wherever ye go and show that
button, the friends of Alan Breck will come around you."
He said this as if he had been Charlemagne, and commanded armies; and indeed,
much as I admired his courage, I was always in danger of smiling at his vanity:
in danger, I say, for had I not kept my countenance, I would be afraid to think
what a quarrel might have followed.
As soon as we were through with our meal he rummaged in the captain's locker
till he found a clothes-brush; and then taking off his coat, began to visit his
suit and brush away the stains, with such care and labour as I supposed to have
been only usual with women. To be sure, he had no other; and, besides (as he
said), it belonged to a king and so behoved to be royally looked after.
For all that, when I saw what care he took to pluck out the threads where the
button had been cut away, I put a higher value on his gift.
He was still so engaged when we were hailed by Mr. Riach from the deck,
asking for a parley; and I, climbing through the skylight and sitting on the
edge of it, pistol in hand and with a bold front, though inwardly in fear of
broken glass, hailed him back again and bade him speak out. He came to the edge
of the round-house, and stood on a coil of rope, so that his chin was on a level
with the roof; and we looked at each other awhile in silence. Mr. Riach, as I do
not think he had been very forward in the battle, so he had got off with nothing
worse than a blow upon the cheek: but he looked out of heart and very weary,
having been all night afoot, either standing watch or doctoring the wounded.
"This is a bad job," said he at last, shaking his head.
"It was none of our choosing," said I.
"The captain," says he, "would like to speak with your friend. They might
speak at the window."
"And how do we know what treachery he means?" cried I.
"He means none, David," returned Mr. Riach, "and if he did, I'll tell ye the
honest truth, we couldnae get the men to follow."
"Is that so?" said I.
"I'll tell ye more than that," said he. "It's not only the men; it's me. I'm
frich'ened, Davie." And he smiled across at me. "No," he continued, "what we
want is to be shut of him."
Thereupon I consulted with Alan, and the parley was agreed to and parole
given upon either side; but this was not the whole of Mr. Riach's business, and
he now begged me for a dram with such instancy and such reminders of his former
kindness, that at last I handed him a pannikin with about a gill of brandy. He
drank a part, and then carried the rest down upon the deck, to share it (I
suppose) with his superior.
A little after, the captain came (as was agreed) to one of the windows, and
stood there in the rain, with his arm in a sling, and looking stern and pale,
and so old that my heart smote me for having fired upon him.
Alan at once held a pistol in his face.
"Put that thing up!" said the captain. "Have I not passed my word, sir? or do
ye seek to affront me?"
"Captain," says Alan, "I doubt your word is a breakable. Last night ye
haggled and argle-bargled like an apple-wife; and then passed me your word, and
gave me your hand to back it; and ye ken very well what was the upshot. Be
damned to your word!" says he.
"Well, well, sir," said the captain, "ye'll get little good by swearing."
(And truly that was a fault of which the captain was quite free.) "But we have
other things to speak," he continued, bitterly. "Ye've made a sore hash of my
brig; I haven't hands enough left to work her; and my first officer (whom I
could ill spare) has got your sword throughout his vitals, and passed without
speech. There is nothing left me, sir, but to put back into the port of Glasgow
after hands; and there (by your leave) ye will find them that are better able to
talk to you."
"Ay?" said Alan; "and faith, I'll have a talk with them mysel'! Unless
there's naebody speaks English in that town, I have a bonny tale for them.
Fifteen tarry sailors upon the one side, and a man and a halfling boy upon the
other! O, man, it's peetiful!"
Hoseason flushed red.
"No," continued Alan, "that'll no do. Ye'll just have to set me ashore as we
agreed."
"Ay," said Hoseason, "but my first officer is dead -- ye ken best how.
There's none of the rest of us acquaint with this coast, sir; and it's one very
dangerous to ships."
"I give ye your choice," says Alan. "Set me on dry ground in Appin, or
Ardgour, or in Morven, or Arisaig, or Morar; or, in brief, where ye please,
within thirty miles of my own country; except in a country of the Campbells.
That's a broad target. If ye miss that, ye must be as feckless at the sailoring
as I have found ye at the fighting. Why, my poor country people in their bit
cobles[16] pass from island to island in all weathers, ay, and by night too, for
the matter of that."
[16]Coble: a small boat used in fishing.
"A coble's not a ship" sir" said the captain. "It has nae draught of water."
"Well, then, to Glasgow if ye list!" says Alan. "We'll have the laugh of ye
at the least."
"My mind runs little upon laughing," said the captain. "But all this will
cost money, sir."
"Well, sir" says Alan, "I am nae weathercock. Thirty guineas, if ye land me
on the sea-side; and sixty, if ye put me in the Linnhe Loch."
"But see, sir, where we lie, we are but a few hours' sail from Ardnamurchan,"
said Hoseason. "Give me sixty, and I'll set ye there."
" And I'm to wear my brogues and run jeopardy of the red-coats to please
you?" cries Alan. "No, sir; if ye want sixty guineas earn them, and set me in my
own country."
"It's to risk the brig, sir," said the captain, "and your own lives along
with her."
"Take it or want it," says Alan.
"Could ye pilot us at all?" asked the captain, who was frowning to himself.
"Well, it's doubtful," said Alan. "I'm more of a fighting man (as ye have
seen for yoursel') than a sailor-man. But I have been often enough picked up and
set down upon this coast, and should ken something of the lie of it."
The captain shook his head, still frowning.
"If I had lost less money on this unchancy cruise," says he, "I would see you
in a rope's end before I risked my brig, sir. But be it as ye will. As soon as I
get a slant of wind (and there's some coming, or I'm the more mistaken) I'll put
it in hand. But there's one thing more. We may meet in with a king's ship and
she may lay us aboard, sir, with no blame of mine: they keep the cruisers thick
upon this coast, ye ken who for. Now, sir, if that was to befall, ye might leave
the money."
"Captain," says Alan, "if ye see a pennant, it shall be your part to run
away. And now, as I hear you're a little short of brandy in the fore-part, I'll
offer ye a change: a bottle of brandy against two buckets of water."
That was the last clause of the treaty, and was duly executed on both sides;
so that Alan and I could at last wash out the round-house and be quit of the
memorials of those whom we had slain, and the captain and Mr. Riach could be
happy again in their own way, the name of which was drink.
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