Adventure and adventurers -- Fiction; Historical fiction; Kidnapping -- Fiction; Scotland -- History -- 18th century -- Fiction
Altogether it was no very hard life for the time it lasted, which (as
you are to hear) was not long. I was as well fed as the best of them;
even their pickles, which were the great dainty, I was allowed my share
of; and had I liked I might have been drunk from morning to night, like
Mr. Shuan. I had company, too, and good company of its sort. Mr. Riach,
who had been to the college, spoke to me like a friend when he was not
sulking, and told me many curious things, and some that were informing;
and even the captain, though he kept me at the stick’s end the most part
of the time, would sometimes unbuckle a bit, and tell me of the fine
countries he had visited.
The shadow of poor Ransome, to be sure, lay on all four of us, and on
me and Mr. Shuan in particular, most heavily. And then I had another
trouble of my own. Here I was, doing dirty work for three men that I
looked down upon, and one of whom, at least, should have hung upon a
gallows; that was for the present; and as for the future, I could only
see myself slaving alongside of negroes in the tobacco fields. Mr.
Riach, perhaps from caution, would never suffer me to say another word
about my story; the captain, whom I tried to approach, rebuffed me like
a dog and would not hear a word; and as the days came and went, my heart
sank lower and lower, till I was even glad of the work which kept me
from thinking.
CHAPTER IX
THE MAN WITH THE BELT OF GOLD
More than a week went by, in which the ill-luck that had hitherto
pursued the _Covenant_ upon this voyage grew yet more strongly marked.
Some days she made a little way; others, she was driven actually back.
At last we were beaten so far to the south that we tossed and tacked to
and fro the whole of the ninth day, within sight of Cape Wrath and the
wild, rocky coast on either hand of it. There followed on that a council
of the officers, and some decision which I did not rightly understand,
seeing only the result: that we had made a fair wind of a foul one and
were running south.
The tenth afternoon there was a falling swell and a thick, wet, white
fog that hid one end of the brig from the other. All afternoon, when
I went on deck, I saw men and officers listening hard over the
bulwarks--“for breakers,” they said; and though I did not so much as
understand the word, I felt danger in the air, and was excited.
Maybe about ten at night, I was serving Mr. Riach and the captain at
their supper, when the ship struck something with a great sound, and we
heard voices singing out. My two masters leaped to their feet.
“She’s struck!” said Mr. Riach.
“No, sir,” said the captain. “We’ve only run a boat down.”
And they hurried out.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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