Micah Clarke - Конан-Дойль Артур 5 стр.

Heart o grace! ejaculated Reuben in loose lipped astonishment. The murdering villains!

I would to the Lord that Kings ship would snap them up! cried I savagely, for the attack was so unprovoked that it stirred my bile. What could the rogues have meant? They are surely drunk or mad!

Pull at the anchor, man, pull at the anchor! my companion shouted, springing up from the seat. I understand it! Pull at the anchor!

What then? I asked, helping him to haul the great stone up, hand over hand, until it came dripping over the side.

They were not firing at us, lad. They were aiming at some one in the water between us and them. Pull, Micah! Put your back into it! Some poor fellow may he drowning.

Why, I declare! said I, looking over my shoulder as I rowed, there is his head upon the crest of a wave. Easy, or we shall be over him! Two more strokes and be ready to seize him! Keep up, friend! Theres help at hand!

Take help to those who need help said a voice out of the sea. Zounds, man, keep a guard on your oar! I fear a pat from it very much more than I do the water.

These words were delivered in so calm and self-possessed a tone that all concern for the swimmer was set at rest. Drawing in our oars we faced round to have a look at him. The drift of the boat had brought us so close that he could have grasped the gunwale had he been so minded.

Sapperment! he cried in a peevish voice; to think of my brother Nonus serving me such a trick! What would our blessed mother have said could she have seen it? My whole kit gone, to say nothing of my venture in the voyage! And now I have kicked off a pair of new jack boots that cost sixteen rix-dollars at Vanseddars at Amsterdam. I cant swim in jack-boots, nor can I walk without them.

Wont you come in out of the wet, sir? asked Reuben, who could scarce keep serious at the strangers appearance and address. A pair of long arms shot out of the water, and in a moment, with a lithe, snake-like motion, the man wound himself into the boat and coiled his great length upon the stern-sheets. Very lanky he was and very thin, with a craggy hard face, clean-shaven and sunburned, with a thousand little wrinkles intersecting it in every direction. He had lost his hat, and his short wiry hair, slightly flecked with grey, stood up in a bristle all over his head. It was hard to guess at his age, but he could scarce have been under his fiftieth year, though the ease with which he had boarded our boat proved that his strength and energy were unimpaired. Of all his characteristics, however, nothing attracted my attention so much as his eyes, which were almost covered by their drooping lids, and yet looked out through the thin slits which remained with marvellous brightness and keenness. A passing glance might give the idea that he was languid and half asleep, but a closer one would reveal those glittering, shifting lines of light, and warn the prudent man not to trust too much to his first impressions.

I could swim to Portsmouth, he remarked, rummaging in the pockets of his sodden jacket; I could swim well-nigh anywhere. I once swam from Gran on the Danube to Buda, while a hundred thousand Janissaries danced with rage on the nether bank. I did, by the keys of St. Peter! Wessenburgs Pandours would tell you whether Decimus Saxon could swim. Take my advice, young men, and always carry your tobacco in a water-tight metal box.

As he spoke he drew a flat box from his pocket, and several wooden tubes, which he screwed together to form a long pipe. This he stuffed with tobacco, and having lit it by means of a flint and steel with a piece of touch-paper from the inside of his box, he curled his legs under him in Eastern fashion, and settled down to enjoy a smoke. There was something so peculiar about the whole incident, and so preposterous about the mans appearance and actions, that we both broke into a roar of laughter, which lasted until for very exhaustion we were compelled to stop. He neither joined in our merriment nor expressed offence at it, but continued to suck away at his long wooden tube with a perfectly stolid and impassive face, save that the half-covered eyes glinted rapidly backwards and forwards from one to the other of us.

You will excuse our laughter, sir, I said at last; my friend and I are unused to such adventures, and are merry at the happy ending of it. May we ask whom it is that we have picked up?

Decimus Saxon is my name, the stranger answered; I am the tenth child of a worthy father, as the Latin implies. There are but nine betwixt me and an inheritance. Who knows? Small-pox might do it, or the plague!

We heard a shot aboard of the brig, said Reuben.

That was my brother Nonus shooting at me, the stranger observed, shaking his head sadly.

But there was a second shot.

Ah, that was me shooting at my brother Nonus.

Good lack! I cried. I trust that thou hast done him no hurt.

But a flesh wound, at the most, he answered. I thought it best to come away, however, lest the affair grow into a quarrel. I am sure that it was he who trained the nine-pounder on me when I was in the water. It came near enough to part my hair. He was always a good shot with a falconet or a mortar-piece. He could not have been hurt, however, to get down from the poop to the main-deck in the time.

There was a pause after this, while the stranger drew a long knife from his belt, and cleaned out his pipe with it. Reuben and I took up our oars, and having pulled up our tangled fishing-lines, which had been streaming behind the boat, we proceeded to pull in towards the land.

The question now is, said the stranger, where we are to go to?

We are going down Langston Bay, I answered.

Oh, we are, are we? he cried, in a mocking voice; you are sure of it eh? You are certain we are not going to France? We have a mast and sail there, I see, and water in the beaker. All we want are a few fish, which I hear are plentiful in these waters, and we might make a push for Barfleur.

We are going down Langston Bay, I repeated coldly.

You see might is right upon the waters, he explained, with a smile which broke his whole face up into crinkles. I am an old soldier, a tough fighting man, and you are two raw lads. I have a knife, and you are unarmed. Dye see the line of argument? The question now is, Where are we to go?

I faced round upon him with the oar in my hand. You boasted that you could swim to Portsmouth, said I, and so you shall. Into the water with you, you sea-viper, or Ill push you in as sure as my name is Micah Clarke.

Throw your knife down, or Ill drive the boat hook through you, cried Reuben, pushing it forward to within a few inches of the mans throat.

Sink me, but this is most commendable! he said, sheathing his weapon, and laughing softly to himself. I love to draw spirit out of the young fellows. I am the steel, dye see, which knocks the valour out of your flint. A notable simile, and one in every way worthy of that most witty of mankind, Samuel Butler. This, he continued, tapping a protuberance which I had remarked over his chest, is not a natural deformity, but is a copy of that inestimable Hudibras, which combines the light touch of Horace with the broader mirth of Catullus. Heh! what think you of the criticism?

Give up that knife, said I sternly.

Certainly, he replied, handing it over to me with a polite bow. Is there any other reasonable matter in which I can oblige ye? I will give up anything to do ye pleasure-save only my good name and soldierly repute, or this same copy of Hudibras, which, together with a Latin treatise upon the usages of war, written by a Fleming and printed in Liege in the Lowlands, I do ever bear in my bosom.

I sat down beside him with the knife in my hand. You pull both oars, I said to Reuben; Ill keep guard over the fellow and see that he plays us no trick. I believe that you are right, and that he is nothing better than a pirate. He shall be given over to the justices when we get to Havant.

I thought that our passengers coolness deserted him for a moment, and that a look of annoyance passed over his face.

Wait a bit! he said; your name, I gather is Clarke, and your home is Havant. Are you a kinsman of Joseph Clarke, the old Roundhead of that town?

He is my father, I answered.

Hark to that, now! he cried, with a throb of laughter; I have a trick of falling on my feet. Look at this, lad! Look at this! He drew a packet of letters from his inside pocket, wrapped in a bit of tarred cloth, and opening it he picked one out and placed it upon my knee. Read! said he, pointing at it with his long thin finger.

It was inscribed in large plain characters, To Joseph Clarke, leather merchant of Havant, by the hand of Master Decimus Saxon, part-owner of the ship Providence, from Amsterdam to Portsmouth. At each side it was sealed with a massive red seal, and was additionally secured with a broad band of silk.

I have three-and-twenty of them to deliver in the neighbourhood, he remarked. That shows what folk think of Decimus Saxon. Three-and-twenty lives and liberties are in my hands. Ah, lad, invoices and bills of lading are not done up in that fashion. It is not a cargo of Flemish skins that is coming for the old man. The skins have good English hearts in them; ay, and English swords in their fists to strike out for freedom and for conscience. I risk my life in carrying this letter to your father; and you, his son, threaten to hand me over to the justices! For shame! For shame! I blush for you!

I dont know what you are hinting at, I answered. You must speak plainer if I am to understand you.

Can we trust him? he asked, jerking his head in the direction of Reuben.

As myself.

How very charming! said he, with something between a smile and a sneer. David and Jonathan or, to be more classical and less scriptural, Damon and Pythias eh? These papers, then, are from the faithful abroad, the exiles in Holland, ye understand, who are thinking of making a move and of coming over to see King James in his own country with their swords strapped on their thighs. The letters are to those from whom they expect sympathy, and notify when and where they will make a landing. Now, my dear lad, you will perceive that instead of my being in your power, you are so completely in mine that it needs but a word from me to destroy your whole family. Decimus Saxon is staunch, though, and that word shall never be spoken.

If all this be true, said I, and if your mission is indeed as you have said, why did you even now propose to make for France?

Aptly asked, and yet the answer is clear enough, he replied; sweet and ingenuous as are your faces, I could not read upon them that ye would prove to be Whigs and friends of the good old cause. Ye might have taken me to where excisemen or others would have wanted to pry and peep, and so endangered my commission. Better a voyage to France in an open boat than that.

I will take you to my father, said I, after a few moments thought. You can deliver your letter and make good your story to him. If you are indeed a true man, you will meet with a warm welcome; but should you prove, as I shrewdly suspect, to be a rogue, you need expect no mercy.

Bless the youngster! he speaks like the Lord High Chancellor of England! What is it the old man says?

But it should be a threat, which is the ware in which you are fond of dealing.

Hows that, eh? Waller himself could not have capped the couplet neater.

All this time Reuben had been swinging away at his oars, and we had made our way into Langston Bay, down the sheltered waters of which we were rapidly shooting. Sitting in the sheets, I turned over in my mind all that this waif had said. I had glanced over his shoulder at the addresses of some of the letters Steadman of Basingstoke, Wintle of Alresford, Fortescue of Bognor, all well-known leaders of the Dissenters. If they were what he represented them to be, it was no exaggeration to say that he held the fortunes and fates of these men entirely in his hands. Government would be only too glad to have a valid reason for striking hard at the men whom they feared. On the whole it was well to tread carefully in the matter, so I restored our prisoners knife to him, and treated him with increased consideration. It was well-nigh dark when we beached the boat, and entirely so before we reached Havant, which was fortunate, as the bootless and hatless state of our dripping companion could not have failed to set tongues wagging, and perhaps to excite the inquiries of the authorities. As it was, we scarce met a soul before reaching my fathers door.

Chapter V. Of the Man with the Drooping Lids

My mother and my father were sitting in their high-backed chairs on either side of the empty fireplace when we arrived, he smoking his evening pipe of Oronooko, and she working at her embroidery. The moment that I opened the door the man whom I had brought stepped briskly in, and bowing to the old people began to make glib excuses for the lateness of his visit, and to explain the manner in which we had picked him up. I could not help smiling at the utter amazement expressed upon my mothers face as she gazed at him, for the loss of his jack-boots exposed a pair of interminable spindle-shanks which were in ludicrous contrast to the baggy low country knee-breeches which surmounted them. His tunic was made of coarse sad-coloured kersey stuff with flat new gilded brass buttons, beneath which was a whitish callamanca vest edged with silver. Round the neck of his coat was a broad white collar after the Dutch fashion, out of which his long scraggy throat shot upwards with his round head and bristle of hair balanced upon the top of it, like the turnip on a stick at which we used to throw at the fairs. In this guise he stood blinking and winking in the glare of light, and pattering out his excuses with as many bows and scrapes as Sir Peter Witling in the play. I was in the act of following him into the room, when Reuben plucked at my sleeve to detain me.

Nay, I wont come in with you, Micah, said he; theres mischief likely to come of all this. My father may grumble over his beer jugs, but hes a Churchman and a Tantivy for all that. Id best keep out of it.

You are right, I answered. There is no need for you to meddle in the business. Be mum as to all that you have heard.

Mum as a mouse, said he, and pressing my hand turned away into the darkness. When I returned to the sitting-room I found that my mother had hurried into the kitchen, where the crackling of sticks showed that she was busy in building a fire. Decimus Saxon was seated at the edge of the iron-bound oak chest at the side of my father, and was watching him keenly with his little twinkling eyes, while the old man was fixing his horn glasses and breaking the seals of the packet which his strange visitor had just handed to him.

I saw that when my father looked at the signature at the end of the long, closely written letter he gave a whiff of surprise and sat motionless for a moment or so staring at it. Then he turned to the commencement and read it very carefully through, after which he turned it over and read it again. Clearly it brought no unwelcome news, for his eyes sparkled with joy when he looked up from his reading, and more than once he laughed aloud. Finally he asked the man Saxon how it had come into his possession, and whether he was aware of the contents.