第61章 The Last Adventure of the Brigadier(3)
- THE ADVENTURES OF GERARD
- Arthur Conan Doyle
- 1109字
- 2016-03-02 16:32:10
"I thought not," said he."You'll never come again for that reason, anyhow."Some three days after my arrival we untied the ropes by which the ship was tethered and we set off upon our journey.I was never a good sailor, and I may confess that we were far out of sight of any land before I was able to venture upon deck.At last, however, upon the fifth day I drank the soup which the good Kerouan brought me, and I was able to crawl from my bunk and up the stair.The fresh air revived me, and from that time onward I accommodated myself to the motion of the vessel.My beard had begun to grow also, and I have no doubt that I should have made as fine a sailor as I have a soldier had I chanced to be born to that branch of the service.I learned to pull the ropes which hoisted the sails, and also to haul round the long sticks to which they are attached.For themost part, however, my duties were to play ecarte with Captain Fourneau, and to act as his companion.It was not strange that he should need one, for neither of his mates could read or write, though each of them was an excellent seaman.
If our captain had died suddenly I cannot imagine how we should have found our way in that waste of waters, for it was only he who had the knowledge which enabled him to mark our place upon the chart.He had this fixed upon the cabin wall, and every day he put our course upon it so that we could see at a glance how far we were from our destination.It was wonderful how well he could calculate it, for one morning he said that we should see the Cape Verd light that very night, and there it was, sure enough, upon our left front the moment that darkness came.Next day, however, the land was out of sight, and Burns, the mate, explained to me that we should see no more until we came to our port in the Gulf of Biafra.Every day we flew south with a favouring wind, and always at noon the pin upon the chart was moved nearer and nearer to the African coast.I may explain that palm oil was the cargo which we were in search of, and that our own lading consisted of coloured cloths, old muskets, and such other trifles as the English sell to the savages.
At last the wind which had followed us so long died away, and for several days we drifted about on a calm and oily sea, under a sun which brought the pitch bubbling out between the planks upon the deck.We turned and turned our sails to catch every wandering puff, until at last we came out of this belt of calm and ran south again with a brisk breeze, the sea all round us being alive with flying fishes.For some days Burns appeared to be uneasy, and I observed him continually shading his eyes with his hand and staring at the horizon as if he were looking for land.Twice I caught him with his red head against the chart in the cabin, gazing at that pin, which was always approaching and yet never reaching the African coast.At last one evening, as Captain Fourneau and I were playing ecarte in the cabin, the mate entered with an angry look upon his sunburned face.
"I beg your pardon, Captain Fourneau," said he.
"But do you know what course the man at the wheel is steering?""Due south," the captain answered, with his eyes fixed upon his cards."And he should be steering due east.""How do you make that out?" The mate gave an angry growl.
"I may not have much education," said he, "but let me tell you this, Captain Fourneau, I've sailed these waters since I was a little nipper of ten, and I know the line when I'm on it, and I know the doldrums, and I know how to find my way to the oil rivers.We are south of the line now, and we should be steering due east instead of due south if your port is the port that the owners sent you to.""Excuse me, Mr.Gerard.Just remember that it is my lead," said the captain, laying down his cards.
"Come to the map here, Mr.Burns, and I will give you a lesson in practical navigation.Here is the trade wind from the southwest and here is the line, and here is the port that we want to make, and here is a man who will have his own way aboard his own ship." As he spoke he seized the unfortunate mate by the throat and squeezed him until he was nearly senseless.Kerouan, the steward, had rushed in with a rope, and between them they gagged and trussed the man, so that he was utterly helpless.
"There is one of our Frenchmen at the wheel.We had best put the mate overboard," said the steward.
"That is safest," said Captain Fourneau.
But that was more than I could stand.Nothing would persuade me to agree to the death of a helpless man.
With a bad grace Captain Fourneau consented to spare him, and we carried him to the after-hold, which lay under the cabin.There he was laid among the bales of Manchester cloth.
"It is not worth while to put down the hatch," said Captain Fourneau."Gustav, go to Mr.Turner and tell him that I would like to have a word with him."The unsuspecting second mate entered the cabin, and was instantly gagged and secured as Burns had been.
He was carried down and laid beside his comrade.The hatch was then replaced.
"Our hands have been forced by that red-headed dolt," said the captain, "and I have had to explode my mine before I wished.However, there is no great harm done, and it will not seriously disarrange my plans.
"Kerouan, you will take a keg of rum forward to the crew and tell them that the captain gives it to them to drink his health on the occasion of crossing the line.
"They will know no better.As to our own fellows, bring them down to your pantry so that we may me sure that they are ready for business.Now, Colonel Gerard, with your permission we will resume our game of ecarte."It is one of those occasions which one does not forget.