The Cruise of the Frolic

We ran up the harbour and dropped our anchor not far from the chief landing-place, abreast of Nix Mangiari Steps. There were several men-of-war in the harbour. Among them was our old friend the “Trident.”

“If Piper sees us, we shall soon have him on board to tell us all the news,” observed Porpoise. “I don’t think Master Mite will forget us, either, if he can manage to come. Our good things, in the way of eating and drinking, made no slight impression on his mind, whatever he may have thought of us as individuals. If he has an opportunity, that little fellow will distinguish himself.”

While stowing sails, the rest of the party having gone below to prepare for a visit to the shore, my eye, as it ranged round the harbour, fell on the sails of a Greek brig, which was just then standing out of the galley port. I looked at her attentively, and then pointed her out to Snow, who was so earnest in seeing that his mainsail was stowed in the smoothest of skins, that he had not observed her.

“What do you think of her?” said I.

“Why, sir, if she isn’t that rascally craft which attacked us, she is as like her as one marlinspike is to another!” he exclaimed, slapping his hand on his thigh. “I’ll be hanged but what I believe it is her, and no mistake about it.”

“I think so, too. Call Mr Porpoise,” said I.

Porpoise jumped on deck with his coat off, and a hairbrush in each hand, to look at her.

“I couldn’t swear to her; but she is the same build and look of craft as our piratical friend,” he answered. “Hang it! I wish that we had come in an hour or two sooner; we might have just nabbed her. As it is, I fear, before we can have time to get the power from the proper authorities to stop her, she will be far away, and laughing at us. At all events, there is not a moment to be lost.”

By this time all hands were on deck, looking at the Greek brig; but all were not agreed as to her being the pirate. However, the gig was lowered, and we pulled on shore, to hurry up as fast as we could to the governor’s palace, to make our report, and to get him to stop the brig before she got out of the harbour.

Landing among empty casks and bales on the sandy shore, we hurried up Nix Mangiari Stairs, greatly to the detriment of Porpoise’s conversational powers, and then on to the residence of the governor, once the palace of the Grand Master of the far-famed Knights of Malta; a huge square structure, imposing for its size, rather than for the beauty of its architecture. The governor was within, and without delay we were ushered through a magnificent suite of rooms into his presence. He received us politely, but raised his eyebrows at the account of our adventure with the pirate, and seemed to insinuate that yachting gentlemen might be apt to be mistaken, and that we had perhaps after all only found a mare’s-nest.

“But, hang it, sir,” exclaimed Hearty, “the villain fired into us as fast as he could; and that gentleman, Mr Bubble, and several of my people, were hit. There was no fancy in that, I imagine.”

“Ah, I see; that alters the case,” said the governor. “We will send and stop the brig; but understand, that you will have to prove that she is the vessel which fired into you; and, if she is not, you must be answerable for the consequences.”

“By all manner of means,” sung out Hearty. “I suppose the consequences won’t be very dreadful.”

“Hang the consequences,” he exclaimed, as soon afterwards we were left to ourselves, to await the report from the telegraph-station. “I cannot bear to hear these official gentlemen babbling of consequences when rogues are to be punished, and honest men protected. A thing must be either right or wrong. If it’s right, do it – if it’s wrong, let it alone. I hate the red-tape system which binds our rulers from beginning to end. We must break through it, and that pretty quickly, or Old England will come to an end.”

We were all ready enough to argue with Hearty in this matter, though the said breaking through an old deep-rooted system is more easy to propose than to carry into effect.

After we had waited some time, word was brought to the palace that, as I expected would be the case, the suspicious brig had got out of the harbour; and was out of the range of the guns on the batteries before the message had reached them. A gun was fired to bring her to, but of course she paid no attention to the signal. Once more we were ushered into the presence of the governor. He was very civil and very kind, be it understood.

“Your best course is to go to the admiral, and tell him your story, and perhaps he will send a man-of-war after her.”

“Thank you, sir,” said Hearty, rising. “We will do as you advise; though I fear, before a man-of-war can get under way, our piratical friend will be safe from pursuit.”

“It matters little. He is very certain to be caught before long; and we will have him hung at his own yard-arm, like some of his predecessors,” observed the governor, politely bowing us out.

“Humph!” muttered Hearty, as we descended the superb steps of the palatial abode. “It matters not, I suppose, how many throats may be cut, and how many rich cargoes sent to the bottom, in the mean time. Hang official routine, I say again. We must get these things altered in Parliament.” (Note.)

The admiral was living on shore, and to his residence we repaired as fast as our legs would carry us, with the thermometer at 90.

“I wish that we had taken the law into our own hands, and made chase after the fellow in the yacht,” exclaimed poor Porpoise, wiping the perspiration from his forehead. “A few hours’ fighting would have been better than this hot work.”

“All very well if we could prove that she was the vessel which attacked us; but if it should have turned out that we were mistaken, we should have been in the place of the pirates, and have been accused of murder, robbery, rapine, and all sorts of atrocities,” remarked Bubble. “No, no; depend on it, things are better as they are. Retribution will overtake the fellows one of these days.”

The admiral’s abode was reached at last; but the admiral was not at home, though his secretary was. The admiral had gone into the country, and would not return till the cool of the evening. The secretary received us very politely, though he seemed rather inclined to laugh at our suspicions.

A pirate sail into Malta Harbour, – beard the lion in his den! The idea was too absurd. It was scarcely possible that any pirates could exist in the Mediterranean. A few had appeared, from time to time, it was true; but several had been hung, and the example had proved a warning to other evil-doers. He would, however, as soon as the admiral returned, mention the circumstance to him, and if he thought fit he would undoubtedly send a vessel in chase of the suspected polacca.

Such was the substance of the worthy secretary’s remarks to us. We could not go in search of the admiral, as it was uncertain where he was to be found, so, very little satisfied with our morning’s work, we left the house.

“What shall we do next?” exclaimed Hearty. “There seems to be no chance of our catching Master Sandgate.”

“Oh, by all means, let us go on board and get cool,” answered Porpoise.

“Certainly,” said Bubble, “I want to look out some zephyr clothing. One can bear nothing thicker than a cobweb this sultry weather.”

So on board we went, and lay each man in his cabin with all the skylights off, and wind-sails down, an awning over the deck, and a punkah invented by Bubble, kept working, which sent a stream of air through every portion of our abode, so that we were far more comfortable than we could have been anywhere else. When yachting I always make a point of going everywhere in the yacht, and living on board her, scarcely ever entering an hotel. We thus spent two or three hours – some reading, others smoking or talking, Bubble every now and then giving vent to his feelings in snatches of song. I am not certain that we did not all drop asleep. We were aroused from our quietness by the sound of footsteps on deck, and by the descent of the steward into the cabin.

“Please, sir, that young gentleman that came aboard from the sloop-of-war, after we lost our masts, wants to know if he may come below to see you,” said he to Hearty.

“By all means,” cried Hearty, springing up; “glad to see him.”

Master Mite had followed the steward, and heard the last observation.

“Thank you, sir,” quoth he, helping himself to a seat. “Glad to see you, too. Scarcely thought you would be here so soon. Just in time for a grand ball. You’ll like it. We can take you there. I’m a great favourite with the signora. Told me to bring all my friends – the more the better – very hearty people for Smaitches. That’s what we call the Maltese here, you know. I saw your craft come in, and wanted to come on board before, but couldn’t. A midshipman is not always his own master, you know. At last I got leave from our jolly old first, Tom Piper. He told me to say that he would come as soon as he could. I know that he wants to press you to come to the ball, also.”

Thus did the young midshipman run on. Hearty told him that he should be very happy to go to his friend’s house under his chaperonage, and that so should we all, which mightily pleased Master Mite.

“That’s right,” he exclaimed. “It will be jolly good fun, I can tell you. There are some very nice English people, too, great friends of mine. Such a splendiferous girl, too – a Miss Mizen – came out with her uncle, old Rullock, in the ‘Zebra.’ I dance with her whenever I can. If you could but see her I’m sure you’d say my taste was very good. Some people think that she is cut out by another fine girl, a Miss Jane Seton; but I don’t. Jane’s all very well in her way, very fine to look at, and all that sort of thing; but to say the truth, she’s rather addicted to snubbing midshipmen, and that we don’t approve of. As for her mother, she wouldn’t touch one of us with a boarding-pike. She’s a terrible old harridan, and that’s not in Jane’s favour. Oh, no, give me Laura Mizen for my money, and all our mess say the same. She’s the toast of the mess just now, I can tell you.”

While the youngster was running on thus I watched Hearty’s countenance. He fairly blushed, and looked more pleased and astonished and puzzled than I had ever seen him before in my life. He evidently did not like to stop the boy, though he winced at hearing Miss Mizen spoken of as the toast of the mess. He was astonished, and clearly delighted at hearing that she was so near him, for, as may be remembered, I had not told him that she and her mother had come out to Malta, nor did he hear of the circumstance during our stay at Gibraltar. Dinner was soon brought on the table, and Tom Mite did not fail to do ample justice to it.

“Well, you yachtsmen do live like princes,” quoth the young gentleman, as he quaffed his cool claret. “When I come into my fortune, I’ll get a yacht, and cut the service. Then, if Miss Mizen, or some other fine young girl like her, will have me, she shall become the rover’s bride. Oh, wouldn’t it be jolly! Here’s to her health in the mean time.”

I could stand the joke no longer, and burst into a fit of laughter.

“What’s the matter?” asked Tommy, guessing he might have been saying something he had better not have said.

“Only that Captain Rullock and his sister and niece are great friends of ours, and that they will be highly flattered at the high estimation in which they are held by your mess,” I answered.

Mite, who had plenty of tact, very adroitly replied, “Well, gentlemen, I hope that you will come to the ball, and meet your friends.”

His invitation was backed by Lieutenant Piper, who soon afterwards came on board, and it was arranged that we should call alongside the “Trident” for them just before sunset.

Note. Let no one suppose that this incident is intended to reflect on any particular governor of Malta. It is, unhappily, only too characteristic of many of our governors, ambassadors, and consuls, and other authorities in various parts of the world, both at home and abroad. Certainly, old Tom, well-known to fame, would not have so acted.

Chapter Twenty One

A Ball – What Occurred at it – The Greek Count – Mrs Skyscraper

We were conducted by our friends to a handsome palace in one of the principal streets of Valetta. The ball-room was full of naval and military officers in uniform, and ladies in dresses of every hue and gossamer texture. Many were fair and blooming, but the dark skins and flashing eyes of a southern clime predominated.

Hearty and I walked in together. He cast a glance eagerly round the room. Laura Mizen against the field, as Carstairs would say, thought I. How will she receive him, however, is the question? We men are too often apt to forget that point. He was not long in finding her; he walked up hastily, and put out his hand. She looked up, a gleam of pleased surprise lighted up her eyes, and a slight blush suffused her cheek, and then she put out her hand with the same frankness he had offered his. All right, I thought; that is just as people should meet; they will understand each other very soon. Miss Mizen had entirely overlooked me when meeting Hearty, which, however complimentary to him, might, under some circumstances, have hurt my feelings.

After allowing them to talk a little, I went forward and was cordially received as his friend. I was surprised that Carstairs and Bubble had not found their way to that end of the room. On returning towards the door, after exchanging a few words with some old naval acquaintance, I caught sight of him bending over a lady who was leaning back in an arm-chair flirting with her fan. Her face was thus hidden from me, but on getting nearer I beheld no less a personage than Mrs Skyscraper; at a little distance was Bubble, carrying on an animated conversation with Miss Jane Seton, greatly to the chagrin, as it appeared, of a magnificently dressed Albanian who stood near them. The stranger’s face was turned away from me, so that I could not see the expression of his countenance; but the convulsive clutch which he ever and anon made at the handle of his jewel-hilted dagger showed the irritation of his feelings; and so strongly did this movement impress me with his evil intentions, that I kept my eye fixed on his weapon to hold him back should he attempt to do any mischief. Just at that moment Mite came up to me.

“This is fun, isn’t it?” quoth my young friend. “Now to my mind there’s a fine woman, the one Mr Carstairs is talking to; but by Jupiter Ammon she’s cut out by that girl there Mr Bubble has ranged up alongside. She’s superb, isn’t she? What a Juno-like head! Still, do you know that I don’t think I should quite like to offend her. She looks as if she could twitch a fellow by the ear pretty sharply. Look there now, there’s another girl, she’s much more to my mind, though she has nothing of the stunner about her. The primrose style is what I like, or the violet, if that’s more to your taste – quiet and neat. Now, that’s what I should call that little fair girl there. I say, I must just try and have a dance with her; I ought to, for the skipper made me toe and heel it with a little Smaitch girl, who was wonderfully heavy to haul about; and as she didn’t understand a word I said, and as I couldn’t make out a word she said, there was no great fun in it.”

Thus the youngster ran on somewhat flippantly, perhaps, drawing off my attention from Bubble and the Greek. I was, however, conscious that the latter had turned his head and looked at me. Directly afterwards he walked off to another part of the room. As I was neither lazy nor too old to dance, nor blind to the charms of beauty, I was soon after this engaged in moving about to the sound of music among the laughing throng. Among others, the fair Jane honoured me with her hand. I found her any thing but a lively companion; somewhat absent, and far from haughty as before. Had the avenging Nemesis of an unrequited passion punished her for her treatment of my friend Loring? It looked very like it; she answered my most brilliant sallies of wit by monosyllables, and smiled faintly, putting her bouquet to her nose – but I am certain the sweets therein conveyed no sensation to her olfactory nerves. What was the matter with her I could in no way make out. I was leading her to a seat, somewhat weary with my vain endeavours to arouse her, when we encountered Sir Lloyd Snowdon, one of the officers of the garrison, and evidently an admirer of hers.

“It’s all arranged, Miss Seton; we have fixed to have the pic-nic to-morrow. Mrs Seton has promised and so has Mrs Mizen, and Mrs Rowley, and Mrs Grey, and her daughters, and that charming personage Mrs Skyscraper only waits to be asked.” I recollected the pic-nic we had had to Netley, when my friend Loring had apparently made such way into the good graces of the fair Jane, but she made no sign to betray any recollection of the event. I was acquainted with Sir Lloyd, and he knew Hearty well, so he invited all our party to join the pic-nic on the morrow. Old Rullock of the “Zebra” of course was asked, and so was Captain Arden of the “Trident,” and requested to bring some of their officers, rather an unusual stretch of military politeness at Malta, where midshipmen, and even lieutenants, are held often in but slight estimation.

We were to visit the old capital of Citta Vecchia and the catacombs, and the grotto of St. Paul’s, and then to go on to a sheltered bay on the seashore, where the operation of dining was to be performed. The whole plan was soon arranged, and everybody was pleased. I was talking to Mrs Skyscraper when Sir Lloyd Snowdon came up to us.

“By the by,” said he to the widow, “I quite forgot to ask your friend the Greek Count; can you, my dear madam, tell me where he is to be found? I would remedy my neglect.”

“Indeed, I cannot,” answered the lady with a toss of her head; “I saw Count Gerovolio, but I have not watched his proceedings.”

“Oh, Mrs Skyscraper – Mrs Skyscraper!” thought I, “what were your eyes about when they wandered just now so often towards Miss Seton and that finely dressed Albanian?” I had missed the fair Jane after supper, and heard her mother inquiring for her. I had wandered out on a narrow terrace which ran under the windows of a long corridor, to enjoy the fresh air and the moonlight. As I passed under one of the windows, I saw two figures standing in the recess. One I saw was Count Gerovolio, the other I felt sure was Miss Seton. I would not have willingly been an eavesdropper, but I could scarcely help hearing what was said. I was arrested, also, by finding that the speakers were conversing in English.

“Beautiful girl,” exclaimed the Count, in a tone of deep devotion, “you have enslaved me completely. I sought you but for my amusement, and you have thrown your golden chains around me, so that I could not break from them if I would.”

“Oh! who are you?” exclaimed Miss Seton, in an agitated tone. “You did not tell me you could speak English. Surely you are not an Englishman.”

“Whatever I am, I am a Greek at heart and by adoption,” answered the stranger, with a slight hesitation in his voice. “I was first led to the shores of that classic land to fight for the cause of her long-oppressed children. My sword raised me to my present position. Let that suffice you. And now, lovely girl, do not longer hold me in torturing suspense. You know how deeply, how earnestly, I love you. Your mother, you tell me, will not consent to our union. Fly with me at once. My beautiful vessel waits off the coast to receive us on board, and to convey us to a land of freedom and romance; and where, emancipated from the trammels of the cold, calculating world, we may enjoy that bliss reserved for so few on earth.”

Miss Seton’s answer I could not hear. I could scarcely believe that she could be influenced by such palpable sophistry. Still I knew that there are moments when even the wisest among the daughters of Eve, thrown off their guard by the wiles of the Evil One, are ready to listen to his most barefaced falsehood; if they trust to their own strength – their own wisdom – and seek not protection from the only source whence it can come. “Oh, you consummate scoundrel!” I muttered to myself, as I retreated to the doorway, whence I had come out. I had no longer a doubt as to the identity of the pretended Greek. I resolved to put the matter to the test. Entering the house, I walked briskly along the gallery, towards the window where I had seen the two speakers. Miss Seton was there – more like a statue than a living being – leaning against the wall, with her hands pressed to her forehead; but the pretended Greek was gone.

“Miss Seton,” said I, going up to her, “tell me what has become of Mr Sandgate.”

“I know not of whom you speak,” she answered. “I know no one of that name.”

“The man in the Greek dress,” I replied, calmly, for I felt that much depended on my tone and manner.

“What! do you know him?” she asked in a faltering voice.

“I do,” said I; “and, Miss Seton, I would save you from him. He is worthless. He lives with a halter around his neck, and he will some day find it hauled taut.”

She stood perfectly silent for some time. I allowed her to remain so that she might regain her composure. She did this in a wonderfully short space of time. I suspected that her feelings were not very acute.

“You know my secret. I throw myself on your generosity, and I am sure that you will not betray me, Mr Brine.”

“Indeed, you may trust me, Miss Seton,” I replied; “I shall rejoice at being the means of saving you from a very great danger. Let me entreat you, therefore, not to see that man again on any account. Keep close to your mother, and let nothing separate you from her. Another time I will tell you his history, and you will see that you have reason to be guarded.”

“Oh, tell me now, tell me now!” she exclaimed. “I will follow your advice; but I would hear all about him, and then shut him out of my thoughts forever.”

I saw that she was right, so I told her briefly all I knew about Sandgate. She shuddered several times at the narrative. She was not particularly romantic, and fully alive to the advantages of a good position, thanks to her mother’s instruction. Though she had seen no great objection to becoming a Greek countess, she had reason to be thankful at having escaped falling into the power of a villain of the stamp of Sandgate. “Now let me lead you to Mrs Seton,” I replied, offering my arm. She took it. Hers trembled as it pressed mine.

“Why, Jane, my dear, you look very ill; what is the matter?” exclaimed the old lady, starting up with a look of real alarm in her countenance. I believe she loved her daughter, and fancied she showed it by helping her to make what she called a good match.

“Oh, nothing, nothing – the heat, I believe,” she answered, turning still paler. “I think that I had better leave the room.”

Her mother thought so likewise. I found their carriage. They lived not far off; so, following on foot, I watched them till they were safely within their own doors. On returning to the ball-room I heard Mrs Skyscraper making anxious inquiries as to what had become of Count Gerovolio.

“Never mind, we shall see him to-morrow at the pic-nic. He promised to be there,” she observed. I saw from the look Carstairs gave that the Count had better behave himself should he venture to make his appearance, which I did not think very likely.

Chapter Twenty Two

Our Malta Pic-nic – The Catacombs – The Pirate in Sight – Sandgate again Escapes us – Our Expedition with the Men-of-war – Return from our Fruitless Cruise

My friends were not a little astonished when I told them, on getting on board the yacht, that Sandgate was in the island. The question was, how to catch him. We had no moral doubt whatever that he had come on board our vessel with the intention of plundering us, and that he had afterwards endeavoured to send us to the bottom by attacking us in the polacca-brig; still no one could swear to the fact. We were not certain that the brig which left the harbour that morning was the one which had engaged us – we could not prove that he belonged to her; scarcely, indeed, could we expect to induce the authorities to believe that the Greek Count and Sandgate the smuggler were one and the same person.

“Take my advice,” observed Carstairs; “don’t let us fash ourselves on the subject, but give the rogue a long rope, and he will soon hang himself.”

We all agreed to the wisdom of this remark, and resolving to wait the course of events, turned in and went to sleep.