"What's this craft doing without studding sails or royals?" Marvin asked. "It must be they're waiting for your schooner, Argandeau."
'Well, of coursel" Argandeau said softly. "These are Griffons, sailing these vessels. Look there, at that poor Formidable so far astern she is no more than a small white fleal She sail twelve, thirteen knots, any day I have her. Put me on her quarter-deck and she run around this brig, pfool Like thatl I am caught, it is true, but on a lee shore yes; it is something that could happen to anyone, eh? To Surcouf; to Duguay-Trouin, event" He glanced at Marvin. "Of course, I am not Duguay-Trouin, but be assured that if I had lived in the days of Duguay-Trouin, he would not have been ignorant of mel" He sighed pensively; then patted Marvin's hand. "Ask anybody in all South America, wherever you will. They tell you at once, 'But of courser Argandeau sail twice around Hispaniola while any Englishman trying to get from Dover to Calaist' Fourteen knots, whenever I take her out; but the Griffons, they cannot get more than eight, not
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ever. For me, she is a swan; for the Griffons, a dead skate. I tell you these Griffons do not know about sailing. They are nothing but mutton dealers and boot polishers, all loaded into vessels nothing elsel Nothing at all."
"That's rightl" Slade said. "A lot of good stable boys were spoiled to make the British navy."
As if to prove Slade's assertion, tackles creaked behind them. Marvin saw the foot of the main course slowly rising. "Look thereI" Argandeau laughed. "We take off more canvas, so to wait for my Formidable. I believe these Griffons cannot get even six knots from herl"
With the rising of the mainsail, Marvin turned again to the quarter-deck, which had become fully visible to the occupants of the longboat. Forward of the cabin scuttle sat a woman, partly obscured by an awning; but from her dress of black silk and the brilliantly colored needlework that moved rhythmically in her lap, Marvin knew her to be Corunna Dorman. He half rose from his thwart: then, remembering the plight in which he was, sank back again.
Before Corunna stood Lieutenant Strope, though Marvin was able to see nothing of him save a pair of thin shanks protruding from abbreviated duck trousers. Yet they turned and postured, these legs, so that Marvin, in his mind's eye, saw Strope bending over Corunna in what he must have thought a position of fetching grace. From time to time, as the duck-trousered left knee thrust itself forward at a more acute angle, the rhythmic movements of the needlework were interrupted; and Marvin knew that Corunna's hands were idle so that she might more readily listen to the speeches of Lieutenant the Honorable Vivian Strope.
He stared around him with something approaching desperation in his eyes; and the sight of the noisome, filthy crew that filled the long-boat seemed to him, for all the cruel clearness with which the morning sun exposed them, as unreal as the solemn absurdities of a fearful nightmare. His glance fell on the tall Indian, Steven, and he thought, even while he noted the dead appearance of his coppercolored skin and long black hair where the grey mud had caked on it, that this was never the same Steven with whom he had so often gone into the marshes of Arundel to hunt black ducks, but a Steven out of a dream.
"You are shaking," Argandeau said. "I think it cannot be the wind, which is cooking my nose like an egg after the days I have ripened and grown white in the dark. I think it must be the sight of that rabbit there on the quarter-deck, eh?"
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The Indian, catching Marvin's eye, put his hand to his chest. "Dan'l," he said, "I wish I could get me something for this ache."
Marvin rose to his feet and spoke to one of the marines who stood in a watchful circle about the prisoners. "Get an officer," he said. "I want to speak to the quarter-deck."
The marine stared blankly; then burst into a guffaw of laughter.
Argandeau whistled shrilly, close beside Marvin's ear, and gesticulated wildly. It was the infant midshipman, Mr. Benyon, to whom he gesticulated and whistled, and after a moment's hesitation the child pushed his way between the marines to stand staring palely at Argandeau as though staring at a strange animal in a cage.
"Your lordship," Argandeau said, while Mr. Benyon fingered his dirk and dropped his under lip, "your lordship knows how it is the custom on all civilized ships, that the people or the prisoners of the ship may at will present their complaints or compliments to the quarter-deck."
"Complaints?" the boy asked. "You want to make complaints?"
"Your lordship is a seaman," Argandeau continued, "and can recognize the barbarity that led one of these dog soldiers to do nothing but yell with laughter when my friend" he placed his hand on Marvin's shoulder "asked to speak with your noble commander."
The boy looked severely at the marines who towered about him. "ThaYs no way to actl" he said. "Wha'd you want to laugh for? You ain't on this king's brig to taught You better look out, or I'll make you laugh out of the wrong side of your mouthl" He turned importantly and, like a petulant child, jostled the marines from his path.
"Sugar!" Argandeau sighed. "It catches them all, both little and great, if you know the sugar they prefer!"
Five minutes later Marvin was marched to the quarter-deck by a marine; and there he stood alone, as shabby a figure as could be found in any gutter, while Lieutenant Strope hung over Corunna, crooking first his left leg and then hlB right leg as he murmured to her. Rage grew in Marvin as he watched the black-haired girl, with her head bent low over her woolen Holy Family, and the Englishman who hovered above her rage at an officer who could countenance such treatment of his fellows.
In spite of his rage, he had no eyes for Strope; he looked at Corunna, though she had no look for him in return. Yet, as he watched her, she stirred uneasily and flushed; then, while the lieutenant still addressed her, she stabbed her needle through her square of embroidered canvas, rose abruptly and went to the lee rail, to
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stand and stare at the three small sail that swam mistily in the blue haze to leeward.
The lieutenant peered after her; then turned sulkily to Marvin. "What is it you want?"
"Sir," Marvin said, "one of our men is sick. He needs looking after. I'd be obliged, sir, if he could have some attention."
The lieutenant thrust out his head, like a crane in a marsh pool at the sudden movement of a minnow. "Sick? What's the matter with him?"
"An aching chest," Marvin told him.
"Oh, indeed!" the lieutenant said. "What a pityl" He suddenly became bitter. "This is a war, you fooll We haven't the time to hold the hands of those with hangnails and bruised knees! A sore chest, for Ged's sakel D'you think I have so little fever among my own men that I must bother with malingering prisoners? Get back where you belong and take up no more of my time with your demned Yankee notional"
"Sir," Marvin persisted, "the food is bad and the water's worse. We're choking, all of us, and the bread's solid with weevils."
"Well, what of it?" the lieutenant exclaimed, in a passion. "Do you think we can draw up to a bread shop in mid-ocean and lay in a fresh supply?"
"No," Marvin said, "but you could put us aboard one of your prizes, where we'd be able to breathe. Why, you feed your hogs better than we're fed; yes, and treat them better too."
The lieutenant's lips tightened and he laughed unpleasantly. "I wonder," he said, "what England would do without America to point out her shortcomings! Let me tell you thisl You're like all the rest of your countrymen! You need a taste of the cat to improve your manners!"
There was a shout from the maintop. Losing all interest im Marvin, the lieutenant glared peevishly upward.
A seaman hung over the mamtop nettings. "Sail on the lee quarter, sirl" he bawled. "Astern the French schooner!"
Strope thumped his fist on the weather rail. "Be demned and be demned to that French tubl" he cried in a reedy voice. "Turn up all hands and about shipl There's a sail in chase of the Frenchmanl"
The waist of the brig straightway became a turmoil of thudding feet, shouted orders, the creaking of blocks and the shrilling of boatswains' whistles.
"Prisoners belowl" the lieutenant added. "Get 'em under hatches and be quick about itl"
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He went to the lee rail and placed his hand gently on Corunna's arm. She moved impatiently beneath his touch, and to Marvin there seemed to be a trace of moisture at the corner of her eye.
The lieutenant stared at her vacantly; then turned quickly and vanished into the companionway.
To Marvin, hemmed in by the turmoil of sweating seaman and grotesque marines, there was something crushed and forlorn about that figure on the quarter-deck a figure that seemed to droop and waver in the blinding glare. In one small fleeting moment, he knew, he would be forced once more into the filth and stench of the BeetlePs hold; and in his desperation he felt his heart must burst unless he could tell her how he grieved for her, and get from her in return just one word to cherish.
Hoping to be unnoticed in the tumult, he stepped beyond the mainmast. "Corunna," he said huskily, "Corunna - "
She turned a haggard face to him. Her drooping shoulders straightened. Her glance, hard and bitter, slipped past him to the mud-stained prisoners clambering from the long-boat; to the tall Indian, stooped with his wracking cough. Then her eyes stabbed sharply into his, and in them Marvin saw a look of terrible reproach and more terrible contempt a look that said, as clearly as any words, "You did thisl Cowardl"
"Corunna - " he said again huskily.
The butt of a musket struck him between the shoulders. "Garnl" the marine cried furiously. "Garn belowI"
Marvin stumbled forward, and Slade caught him by the arm. "Back to hell with us, eh?" the slaver captain said, and laughed. "You look like a man that's dead, and buried, too; but cheer up. There may be more than us in hell tonight, my boyl It's in my mind that something's coming down the wind and may be playing Yankee Doodlel"
VI
1HELADD~ had been drawn up through the square hole in the hatch, and around the hatch coamings were stationed four marines to make the security of the prisoners doubly sure. Below the hatch, in the blackness of the sweltering, reeking hold, there was a hubbub such as Marvin had never before heard; for the prisoners, tense from the lack of knowledge of what awaited them, screamed their hatred of British ships, British officers, British methods and British seamanship in language as foul as the air they breathed.
"If we had a belaying pint" Marvin told Argandeau. "If we had anything at all, we might get ourselves out of thisl"
"Ah, yes," Argandeau agreed, but with no conviction in his voice, "yes. And if we had a belaying pin, it would be myself who would be the first man to lead such a sortie. It would be unpleasant for the first three, four or five men who would ascend with me, but I would hearten them with my cries, and always they would say to themselves, 'Argandeaul Hahl Argandeau is with us,' and so - "
Marvin sighed deeply. "Well, we haven't any belaying pins."
"No," Argandeau agreed. "And so, since we have no belaying pin, would it not be better to go quietly to sleep?"
The bed of mud quivered beneath them, and from overhead there came an angry, muffled crash that set the thick, hot air to crawling on their faces. The cries of the prisoners died away, to be replaced by the noisy silence of a ship the creakings and groanings of bulkheads, far-off thumps and rattlings, and above and through everything the chuckling and slapping of water against thin walls of plank.
"Now we find out something," Argandeau said softly. "The Griffons have spit out a pill."
"In that case," Slade said, "the stranger couldn't have run. She must have gone to work on your schooner."
"I fear ill" Argandeau said. "It would be like attacking a kitten whose leg has been broken so easyl"
There was a quick change in the sound of the water that lapped against the brig's sides. The noise of slapping became a rushing swish; the vessel straightened, hesitated, seemed to hang motionless, and then tilted in the opposite direction.
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"Yes," Argandeau continued. "What you say is true, Captain Slade. The stranger did not run. She awaited the approach of this Griffon's nest we're in: then she maneuvered. In no other way can our change of course be explained. If the stranger had not maneuvered, our English captain would have kept straight on. Yes, yesl And certainly the stranger would never maneuver against this brig unless he considered himself faster and better. No, no! If he were small and not confident, he would betake himself elsewhere, and in a straight line, without maneuveringl He would go quickly to a smaller tree in order to sharpen his claws." He sighed. "Observe, my friends, how the mind of a Frenchman is clear and logical, even in a moment of stressl I sweat with doubt and uncertainty: yet my imagination moves swiftly and unerringly, eh?" He grunted. "But none the less, I sweatl I, Lucien Argandeau, I am all brain and sweatl It is the waiting that causes the sweat, you understand: the waiting and the darkness, here in this Griffon kennel this stinkpot. This waiting in a dark hole, I do not likel In the daylight, I care for nothing. I snap my fingers at a shipful of lions, pfool But to be caught so, in blindness! BahI"
He rose suddenly from his place beside Marvin, seeming almost to bounce silently to his feet, and stood beneath the square opening in the hatch. "Yes," he said. "It must be that they have piped to quarters. And they have done something more. They have sent that rabbit from the quarter-deck. They have sent her below, to protect her from splinters and grapeshot. What a pity it is that I, Lucien Argandeau, am not free to comfort her! She is frightened; but the most frightened rabbit becomes calm, like a peaceful swan, when Lucien Argandeau comforts her. It is one of my talents one of my smaller gifts."
Marvin and Slade rose from their places to stand close beside him. "How do you know they've sent her below?" Marvin whispered. "What did you hear?"