A High Wind in Jamaica - Richard Hughes [67]
Meanwhile, the crew had no more doubt than Otto had of Jonsen's intention: and the sound of the whetstone floated merrily aft, till each man's knife had an edge that did its master's heart good. I have said that the murder of the Dutch captain had affected the whole character of their piracy. The yeast was working.
Presently the smoke of a large steamer cropped up over the horizon as well. Otto sniffed the breeze. It might hold, or it might not. They were still far from home, and these seas crowded. The whole enterprise looked to him pretty desperate.
Jonsen was at his usual shuffle-shuffle, nervously biting his nails. Suddenly he turned on Otto and called him below. He was plainly very agitated; his cheeks red, his eye wild. He began by plotting himself meticulously on the chart. Then he growled over his shoulder:
"Those children, they must go."
"Aye," said Otto. Then, as Jonsen said no more, he added: "You'll land them at Santa, I take it?"
"No! They must go now. We may never get to Santa."
Otto took a deep breath.
Jonsen turned on him, blustering:
"If we get taken with them, where'll _we_ be, eh?"
Otto went white, then red, before he answered.
"You'll have to risk that," he said slowly. "You can't land them no other place."
"Who said I was going to land them?"
"There's nothing else you can do," said Otto stubbornly.
A light of comprehension dawned suddenly in Jonsen's worried face.
"We could sew them up in little bags," he said with a genial smile, "and put them over the side."
Otto gave him one quick glance; what he saw was enough to relieve him.
"What are you going to do?" he asked.
"Sew them up in little bags! Sew them up in little bags!" Jonsen affirmed, rubbing his hands together and chuckling, all the latent sentimentality of the man getting the better of him. Then he pushed past Otto and went on deck.
The big brigantine, which he had aimed for at first, was proving a bit too far up the wind for him: so now he took the helm and let the schooner's head down a couple of points, to intercept the steamer instead.
Otto whistled. At last an inkling of what the captain was at had dawned on him.
III
As they drew nearer, the children were all immensely interested: they had never before seen anything like this big, miraculous tub. The Dutch steamer, an oldfashioned craft, had not differed very materially from a sailing-vessel: but this, in form, was already more like the steamers of our own day. Its funnel was still tall and narrow, with a kind of artichoke on top, it is true: but otherwise it was much the same as you and I are used to.
Jonsen spoke her urgently: and presently her engines stopped. The _Lizzie Green_ slipped round under her lee. Jonsen had a boat lowered: then embarked in it himself. The children and the schooner's crew stood at the rail in tense excitement: watched a little ladder lowered from her towering iron side: watched Jonsen, alone, in his dark Sunday suit and the peaked cap of his rank, climb on board. He had timed it nicely: in another hour it would be dark.
He had no easy task. First he had his premeditated fiction to establish, his explanation of how he came by his passengers. Secondly, he had to persuade the captain of the steamship, a stranger, to relieve him, where he had so signally failed to persuade his friend the señora at Santa Lucia.
Otto was not a man to show agitation: but he felt it, none the less. This scheme of Jon's was the foolhardiest thing he had ever heard of: the slightest suspicion, and they were as good as done for.
Jonsen had ordered him, if he guessed anything was wrong, to run.
Meanwhile, the breeze was dropping, and it was still light.
Jonsen had vanished into the steamer as into a forest.
Emily was as excited as any of them, pointing out the novel features of this extraordinary vessel. The