"How now?" he demanded in his pleasant voice. "Adam, why that sword?" But before he might answer, Mr. Danvers became eloquent, wherefore Adam stood mute, his sombre gaze now on the wide prospect of sun-flecked ocean.
"So then," quoth Absalom, when Danvers had ended, "you will take sword to raise mutiny on my ship, eh, Adam?"
"No! I arm myself 'gainst injustice and to protect the helpless. Hear the evidence and judge."
"I have already pronounced judgment! No man shall brawl and make trouble whiles I command. Stand aside now and suffer justice be done."
"No!" said Adam again, looking now on the weapon in his hand. "I protest here is no justice and your sea-laws brutishly cruel."
"I am the law on this ship, Adam."
"And you doom this man to the lash?"
"Ay, I do. And what then?"
"This!" answered Adam between shut teeth and, with swift, unerring stroke of keen blade, severed the rope that held the prisoner, tossed the sword clattering at Absalom's feet, looked up at last into his astonished face, and nodded.
"So,—there's your prisoner free, Captain Troy! Now, if you must lash someone, lash me. For I, too, have broke your damned sea-laws and am therefore guilty as he."
Absalom stared from the speaker's small, pale face to the sword at his feet and spoke, almost whispering:
"Now damn you, Adam, for compelling me to this! ... Ha, Bo'sun, strip and seize him up for punishment!"
"Ay, ay, sir!" groaned the Bo'sun.
So Adam's puny form was bared and himself fast bound upon the gun and all with never a word.
"Forrard, Perez! Two shall suffice, nay I——"
"Stop!" cried Antonia, in voice that seemed to ring throughout the ship; then, drawing the hidden pistol she had been grasping all this while, she cocked and levelled it full at Absalom.
"Free him!" she commanded. "Bid them loose this valiant gentleman was once your friend, or I shall kill you this moment, Captain Troy, by God I will!"
Absalom looked at this threatening weapon, at the desperate face and wide, resolute eyes behind it and reading there his certain imminent peril, smiled.
"Lord love thee, Master Anthony, sir," quoth he, "thou art beyond my expectation and more than I bargained for, or damme! Bo'sun, cast loose the prisoner, ay—let my poor friend go free lest his so devoted young brother, or half-brother, end me so bloodily—and aboard my own ship. Now, Mr. Anthony, be pleased to uncock and put away that pistol and hereafter so often as you think on Adam's great provocation, remember Absalom's tender mercy, ay and be thou grateful to this same good, kind Absalom Troy that he hath saved thee from the vile sin o' murder." So saying, Absalom nodded, chuckled and strolled away,—while Adam, freed by many willing hands, found his own grasped between the Bo'sun's horny palms.
"Sir," said this officer, hoarsely, "here's me, Ned Bowser, vastly proud for to shake wi' such gentleman as can be such man as to stand up for Poor Jack,—ay, and here's all on us Jacks to say the same,—eh, my hearties?"
"Ay, sir, ay ay!" came a chorus of voices. "That us do and with a will!"
"Your honour," said one, "I be Martin Frant, the man as you saves, and I'm grateful. Sir, any man as dare speak up for poor Jack as dassent speak up for hisself, any gentleman as'll venter his own body to save a man, takes that man's heart out of that man and makes it his very own. Sir, I be that grateful as I can't say no more, only—ho—messmates all, a cheer now, a cheer for Master Penfeather as dare be friend to the likes o' we,—a cheer for Master Adam Penfeather!"
And with these hearty voices ringing in his ears, Adam went back aft, walking slowly like one very weary, and, under cover of this cheering, murmured:
"Antonia ... brave soul! You saved me from that I dreaded more than death."
"But ... Oh, Adam," she answered, speaking as softly, "he knew I should have killed him, he knew it ... and mocked me ... even then!"
CHAPTER XII
HOW ADAM BEGAN TO LEARN A SHIP
It was in these days of fair winds and smooth seas that Adam set himself with his usual determination to the accomplishment of two purposes; and one of these was to instruct Antonia in sword-craft or, as he phrased it, 'that most delicate art of rapier play'. And this he did with the aid of two blunted foils shaped and fashioned, beneath his own eye, by Andrew Brent, the armourer, choosing for these lessons such hours of the long day as when the broad decks were deserted save for the customary watch.
His second purpose was to learn and know a ship, her every timber, spar, sail and rope, and found many able and humbly eager to instruct him. For now whenever he left the aftermost part of the vessel, sacred to officers and gentlemen, and went forward to waist, gun-deck, or forecastle, he was met by smiling looks and given respectful though hearty welcome, more especially by Ned Bowser, the Bo'sun, and his two mates, Martin Frant and William Croft; and these, experienced mariners and prime seamen all, became his chief instructors.
And because Adam was not ashamed to ask questions or affronted by advice from humblest sailor or mere boy, he questioned and listened to all, and with such unfeigned and lively interest that all men became the more eager to instruct and serve him.
Thus hourly he acquired his first knowledge of sea lore, as: that starboard (or steerboard) meant the ship's right side and larboard or port, the left; the difference of standing and running rigging; of blocks double and single and their uses; of braces and pennants for traversing the yards, and the like. It was with Martin Frant close on his heels that he first ventured to clamber aloft to the great mainyard and, perched there with Martin beside him, learned something of gaskets, bolt-ropes, cringles and bowlines: he gazed up with eyes of awed speculation at what Martin said was the lubbers' hole and puttock shrouds, with the huge topmast soaring above with its maze of cordage, guys and stays.
Thus each day he devoted all his attention to some particular part of the ship,—as, for instance, upon this morning when with steady breeze the Bold Adventuress drove westward through a gentle sea all asparkle to an early sun.
"A fair morning t' your honour!" quoth Bo'sun Ned, knuckling bristly eyebrow and rolling forward to greet him, "I've been a watching of you and gentleman brother at your foyning play yonder, which though pretty for to watch is too furrin and niminy-piminy for the likes o' me. When I fight give me good broad blade 'stead o' them narrer tucks, and downright blows, 'tis best sooted to an English fist, your honour."
"Ay, Bo'sun, the broadsword hath ever been our weapon, yet point is speedier than edge, and therefore the more deadly."
"Well, sir, I've seen some fairish deadly sword and buckler men, in my time, at Ruffian Hall, Smithfield way. There was George Silver, for one."
"Ay, Ned, and Signior Vincentio for another, his rapier out-pointed Silver's broadsword, you'll mind."
"Ah well, sir, other days, other ways. Only when it cometh to right close work—gimme a hanger, or better still, a boarding axe!"
"For close work, Ned, so say I."
"Well, now, wot'll I show your honour this morning?"
"Why," answered Adam, looking up and around with kindling eyes, "as much as possible, Ned. First the fo'c'sle there and beak-head where the anchors hang. Ay, and the spar you told me is the bolt-sprit. Nay first, this great rope that runs up the foremast here, tell me its name and use."
"'Tis called a jeer-rope, sir, and is rove through that block aloft as be seized to the top, d'ye see, and so cometh adown the mast and is rove through this other block by the deck. And its use is for to hoise up the yards so that though the ties should break yet would they hold up the mast. And yon preventers be for the like purpose. These yere be the partners as do hold fast the bolt-sprit as you see, sir, which be further supported by the fore-stay yonder."