The Frozen Crew Of The Ice-Bound Ship; Or, Terrors Of The Arctic Region — page 30: what you’re looking at

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} | WP A, eS ee ee 24 THE FROZEN CREW AND ICE*BOUND SHIP. © de eae what had passed between Gonzalvi and his trea- cherous associate. How Nick acted under the circumstances has partly been shown—how he followed up his ad- vantage remains to be told. , i “ Cheerily, my hearty,” he exclaimed, bending over the prostrate youth. ‘‘the ship may strike but not go to pieces, if you use good seamanship. ‘Square the yards—bouse all taut, and we shan’t have to strike our colours. “ We'll weather the storm, if we sail under bare poles.” «“ Ah, Nick, is that you?’’ said Gonzalvi, recog- nising the voice, and partially recovering from his stupor. ‘I am dying.” ‘““Die be » exclaimed Dick, finishing the sentence with a whistle instead of an expletive. ‘‘Poison has been administered to me.”’ “‘Yeg, but you’ve destroyed its pernicious qualities by infusing it with so much water, a liquid for which, till now, I had the greatest contempt.” “Tf I desire,’ said the youth, feebly, ‘you will do me a:service.”’ ‘‘ Whether you desire it or not, I intend to do you a service,” was the other’s ready reply. ‘“‘T have about me papers of the utmost value to our commander. Of this my enemy is aware, and when he returns will doubtless search ry ‘‘ And not find them.”’ “ How so?” “‘ Because I intend to deliver them to Paul Jones myself.” ‘¢They are not yet in your hands.”’ ‘“‘ But they soon will be,” answered Nick; “unless you prefer entrusting them to the keeping of those who would not, perhaps, prove so faithful a mes- senger as myself.” “You have guessed my intentions. [I shall let you take charge of these writings, and obtain your promise that they will be given up to him who has a right to peruse them,” Gonzalvi, who spoke in weak and faltering accents, then. drew from his bosom a small packet, and offered it to his companion, who eagerly received the proffer. ‘“‘Hush,’? continued the youth, ‘“ footsteps are approaching. You must endeavour to conceal your- self till the danger be past.” ‘‘T shall never cry quarter while I've a shot in the locker,’’ replied Nick—an expression he invari- ably used when his grog store was running low and he found means of replenishing it, which he now achieved by substituting his empty bottle for one on the table well filled. There was no deleterious drug in this beverage that he could distinguish by the smell, or rather taste, for the tippler had never been able to get a vessel higher than his mouth when its destiny was assigned to his nose. Pressing his new companion with the fervour of friendship to his bosom, Nick contrived to grope his way in the dark to an old sea-chest, which for the present must take him in tow, high, dry, and water- logged. He had scarcely turned into this hammock, and ensconced himself in his hiding-place, than Black Bitl again made his appearance in the cabin. He bore with him a light, which he shaded from the currents of air with his hand. > calmly. accident had proved fatal, and I was determined to know whether you were Paul Jones, or Paul's ghost. CHAPTER VIII. OAST ADRIFT. Our wandering narrative must now return to Paul Jones, once more rescued from a perilous position, and in the situation of a convalescent, pale, indeed, and feeble from the loss of so much blood. The great effusion had stopped, and his wound well-nigh healed, so efficacious were the vulnerary plants and salves with which it had been treated by the faithful and sage attendant, the youth, Gonzalvi. The pirate chieftain was now seated by the stove in his cabin, having a book in his hand, marked with cabalistic characters. This he looked upon from time to time, with signs of impatience, if not of ennui. Feelings, at length, so far overcame the student, that, finging the volume on the table, he fixed his eyes on the fire, and assumed the attitude of one who is engaged in unpleasant meditation. After a pause, with folded arms and downcast looks, Paul Jones rose from his seat, and paced slowly his cabin. Here the vivacity of his step and the fire of his eye betrayed themselves to be lost, while his whole ap- pearance more than ever indicated melancholy of mind and suffering of body. As the pirate chieftain walked to and fro, Rotaldo presented himself. The former merely nodded a recognition, and, pulling his hat still deeper over his brows, resumed his solitary and discontented promenade. The Spaniard adjusted his own hat, nodded in return, took snuff with the air of an old beau, from a richly-chased box, and offered it to his companion as he paced before him. Being repulsed somewhst coldly, Rotaldo replaced the box in his pocket, folded his arms in his turn, and stood looking with fixed attention on his motions whose solitude he had interrupted. Paul Jones at length suddenly stopped short, as if impatient at being longer the subject of observation, and demanded abruptly the reason of the intrdsion. “Tam glad you spoke first,” replied the Spaniard, “There was a report on deck that your late “Ghosts, they say,’’ continued Rotaldo, “never take the first word, so now I set it down for yourself in life and limb.’’ “Well, well, you must pardon me if I seem out of humour, for which, I assure you, I have good cause,’ answered the other, abruptly; ‘‘but as your jest is made, now let me have your earnest.”’ “J doubt if I am able to do so, without another can of grog, and the help of a right pipe of Trini- dado.” “T am in no mood for drinking.”’ “‘ Well, since you are unwilling, I am complaisant; and if it will oblige, will endeavour to inform you of a matter on hand with dry lips.” The unusual freedom and levity of his opponent surprised and raised suspicions in the mind of Paul Jones, who, nevertheless, courteously listened to the following narrative :— “IT was born,’ commenced Rotaldo, “of Spanish parentage in the sunny climate of Mexico. My father and mother were poor country people, who believed, seriously, in the devil—passed a wretched life between prayers and work—between a barren land and a village cemetery, persuaded, in their simplicity, that misery led to happiness.” «+ Paul Jones, making no comment on these facts, oO é Eomichoo im <SHeom