LITMIR.BIZ

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CHAPTER 9 The Man With the Belt of Gold

      More than a week went by, in which the ill-luck that had hitherto pursued the Covenant upon this voyage grew yet more strongly marked. Some days she made a little way; others, she was driven actually back. At last we were beaten so far to the south that we tossed and tacked to and fro the whole of the ninth day, within sight of Cape Wrath and the wild, rocky coast on either hand of it. There followed on that a council of the officers, and some decision which I did not rightly understand, seeing only the result: that we had made a fair wind of a foul one and were running south.

      The tenth afternoon there was a falling swell and a thick, wet, white fog that hid one end of the brig from the other. All afternoon, when I went on deck, I saw men and officers listening hard over the bulwarks—“for breakers,” they said; and though I did not so much as understand the word, I felt danger in the air, and was excited.

      Maybe about ten at night, I was serving Mr. Riach and the captain at their supper, when the ship struck something with a great sound, and we heard voices singing out. My two masters leaped to their feet.

      “She’s struck!” said Mr. Riach.

      “No, sir,” said the captain. “We’ve only run a boat down.”

      And they hurried out.

      The captain was in the right of it. We had run down a boat in the fog, and she had parted in the midst and gone to the bottom with all her crew but one. This man (as I heard afterwards) had been sitting in the stern as a passenger, while the rest were on the benches rowing. At the moment of the blow, the stern had been thrown into the air, and the man (having his hands free, and for all he was encumbered with a frieze overcoat that came below his knees) had leaped up and caught hold of the brig’s bowsprit. It showed he had luck and much agility and unusual strength that he should have thus saved himself from such a pass. And yet when the captain brought him into the round-house, and I set eyes on him for the first time, he looked as cool as I did.

      He was smallish in stature, but well set and as nimble as a goat; his face was of a good open expression, but sunburnt very dark, and heavily freckled and pitted with the smallpox; his eyes were unusually light and had a kind of dancing madness in them, that was both engaging and alarming; and when he took off his great-coat, he laid a pair of fine silver-mounted pistols on the table, and I saw that he was belted with a great sword. His manners, besides, were elegant, and he pledged the captain handsomely. Altogether I thought of him, at the first sight, that here was a man I would rather call my friend than my enemy.

      The captain, too, was taking his observations, but rather of the man’s clothes than his person. And to be sure, as soon as he had taken off the great-coat, he showed forth mighty fine for the round-house of a merchant brig: having a hat with feathers, a red waistcoat, breeches of black plush, and a blue coat with silver buttons and handsome silver lace; costly clothes, though somewhat spoiled with the fog and being slept in.

      “I’m vexed, sir, about the boat,” says the captain.

      “There are some pretty men gone to the bottom,” said the stranger, “that I would rather see on the dry land again than half a score of boats.”

      “Friends of yours?” said Hoseason.

      “You have none such friends in your country,” was the reply. “They would have died for me like dogs.”

      “Well, sir,” said the captain, still watching him, “there are more men in the world than boats to put them in.”

      “And that’s true, too,” cried the other, “and ye seem to be a gentleman of great penetration.”

      “I have been in France, sir,” says the captain, so that it was plain he meant more by the words than showed upon the face of them.

      “Well, sir,” says the other, “and so has many a pretty man, for the matter of that.”

      “No doubt, sir,” says the captain, “and fine coats.”

      “Oho!” says the stranger, “is that how the wind sets?” And he laid his hand quickly on his pistols.

      “Don’t be hasty,” said the captain. “Don’t do a mischief before you see the need of it. Ye’ve a French soldier’s coat upon your back and a Scotch tongue in your head, to be sure; but so has many an honest fellow in these days, and I dare say none the worse of it.”

      “So?” said the gentleman in the fine coat, “are ye of the honest party?” (meaning, Was he a Jacobite? for each side, in these sort of civil broils, takes the name of honesty for its own.)

      “Why, sir,” replied the captain, “I am a true-blue Protestant, and I thank God for it.” (It was the first word of any religion I had ever heard from him, but I learnt afterwards he was a great church-goer while on shore.) “But, for all that,” says he, “I can be sorry to see another man with his back to the wall.”

      “Can ye so, indeed?” asked the Jacobite. “Well, sir, to be quite plain with ye, I am one of those honest gentlemen that were in trouble about the years forty-five and six; and (to be still quite plain with ye) if I got into the hands of any of the red-coated gentry, it’s like it would go hard with me. Now, sir, I was for France; and there was a French ship cruising here to pick me up; but she gave us the go-by in the fog—as I wish from the heart that ye had done yoursel’! And the best that I can say is this: If ye can set me ashore where I was going, I have that upon me will reward you highly for your trouble.”

      “In France?” says the captain. “No, sir; that I cannot do. But where ye come from—we might talk of that.”

      And then, unhappily, he observed me standing in my corner, and packed me off to the galley to get supper for the gentleman. I lost no time, I promise you; and when I came back into the round-house, I found the gentleman had taken a money-belt from about his waist, and poured out a guinea or two upon the table. The captain was looking at the guineas, and then at the belt, and then at the gentleman’s face; and I thought he seemed excited.

      “Half of it,” he cried, “and I’m your man!”

      The other swept back the guineas into the belt. and put it on again under his waistcoat. “I have told ye, sir,” said he, “that not one doit of it belongs to me. It belongs to my chieftain,” and here he touched his hat—“and while I would be but a silly messenger to grudge some of it that the rest might come safe, I should show myself a hound indeed if I bought my own carcase any too dear. Thirty guineas on the seaside, or sixty if ye set me on the Linnhe Loch. Take it, if ye will; if not, ye can do your worst.”

      “Ay,” said Hoseason. “And if I give ye over to the soldiers?”

      “Ye would make a fool’s bargain,” said the other. “My chief, let me tell you, sir, is forfeited, like every honest man in Scotland. His estate is in the hands of the man they call King George; and it is his officers that collect the rents, or try to collect them. But for the honour of Scotland, the poor tenant bodies take a thought upon their chief lying in exile; and this money is a part of that very rent for which King George is looking. Now, sir, ye seem to me to be a man that understands things: bring this money within the reach of Government, and how much of it’ll come to you?”

      “Little enough, to be sure,” said Hoseason; and then, “If they knew,” he added, drily. “But I think, if I was to try, that I could hold my tongue about it.”

      “Ah, but I’ll begowk¹ ye there!” cried the gentleman. “Play me false, and I’ll play you cunning. If a hand’s laid upon me, they shall ken what money it is.”

      “Well,” returned the captain, “what must be must. Sixty guineas, and done. Here’s my hand upon it.”

      “And here’s mine,” said the other.

      And thereupon the captain went out (rather hurriedly, I thought), and left me alone in the round-house with the stranger.

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