The Happy Mariners (12 page)

‘My hat!' exclaimed Rex. ‘This must be a pretty draughty place on a windy night. There's a lot of work for us here, isn't there, Guy? We must finish off the walls, and make a proper door. And we must
make a bedroom for Elizabeth. After all, she's captain, so she ought to have a sort of state room all to herself, where she can do the cooking and needlework and all that. Every one's got to work like billy-o. You two pirates can sit down if you like,' he added graciously. ‘Those barrels are heavy, I expect. We'll give you some breakfast presently.'

‘But I say,' said Guy, as the pirates took their seats, ‘I wonder how this log-cabin got here, and who it belongs to?'

‘Well, it belongs to
us
now,' asserted Rex. ‘Doesn't it, Elizabeth?'

‘Yes, I suppose so,' agreed Elizabeth. ‘But let's not stop to talk until we've had breakfast. It must be nearer tea-time really.'

‘And we promised Mother we'd be back to tea, don't forget!' said Martin. ‘If you want to know what
I
think, Rex—I think the pirates must have built this log-cabin.'

‘That's an idea,' Rex admitted. ‘But why did they clear off without finishing it? Look here, Mr Murder, you're one of them. Do
you
know anything about it?'

The two pirates looked at each other, winked, and gravely shook their heads. Nautical Tallboy, always, in spite of his sedateness, the more sinister of the two (to Elizabeths way of thinking), seemed tired and out of sorts; but in Bill Murder there was a more marked change, and one that made Elizabeth more inclined
than ever to think that mischief was brewing. The two ruffians sat side by side, like children in school, and stared moodily in front of them. They were very stupid, thought Elizabeth, but it was impossible that they could be quite so stupid as they looked. Every time she caught his eye, the lanky one, Bill Murder, gave her an ingratiating grin, allowed his mouth to hang confidingly open, and put on his goldfish look; but when he thought he was unobserved an ugly scowl settled on his face, and then you could see in a flash what wickedness he might be capable of.

They all sat down to a meal of ship's biscuit, coconut, dates, and cold water; and while they were eating Rex continued his questions.

‘Well, Mr Pirates,' he said, ‘if you don't know anything about it, please tell us what you were doing prowling about in the forest.'

‘Just prowling about,' sighed Nautical Tallboy, in a voice of profound melancholy. ‘Just a gentle little prowl about. Nothing more. Isn't that so, Mr Murder?'

The pirates winked at each other again, and Bill Murder replied: ‘Yes, Nautical. You're right, lad. And no instructions from Captain Blackheart neither. Not a word about these pretty chicks. Not a word. And no reward offered neither for their dear little scalps. It's a hard life for poor pirates. On the one hand there's danger, and on the other hand there's glory. On the one hand it's nice to hear 'em squeal
and take their jools'—he smiled and smacked his lips—‘but on the other hand it's horrible when they turns on a poor fellow and hits back all rough and brutal. All I wants, Nautical, is a quiet life and a little bit of kindness from everybody.' With a piece of ship's biscuit he brushed away a tear, and then smiled wistfully and relapsed into munching silence, apparently exhausted by his speech.

Nautical Tallboy was eating in a more fastidious manner. ‘The disadvantage of a pirate's life,' he remarked, with a polite bow to Elizabeth, ‘is its lack of refinement. You would hardly credit me, madam, if I were to describe to you the table manners of some of my colleagues. They dip their bread and butter not only in their soup but even in their tea. I assure you the practice is general.'

‘But haven't you always been a pirate?' asked Elizabeth.

‘By no means, madam. I was not, like Captain Blackheart, born with a black flag in my mouth. Mine was a humbler station in life, and I'm proud to confess it. I was trained as an accountant, my dear father being town clerk for a district that shall be nameless. But in my nineteenth year he took me aside one day and said: “Nautical, I can see you are not happy, so I have resolved to make a curate of you.” But I had set my heart on higher things. I was determined to become a pirate. Always from earliest childhood I had had a yearning for the sea.
Piracy, the skull and crossbones, the black flag, had been my lodestar. “I have already,” said my father, “purchased a curate's collar for you.” I put the collar on, as you may have observed, madam, and then, without another word, I ran away to sea. I am, such as you see me, a self-made man.'

Rex had been getting very impatient during this long recital, and now he burst in with another question: ‘Yes, but what were you two doing last night so far from the Pirates' Camp? That's what we want to know.'

‘The Pirates' Camp!' echoed Tallboy, with an affectation of innocence. ‘What Pirates' Camp might that be?'

‘Oh,' said Rex, ‘it's no good trying that game, Mr Nautical Tallboy. We know perfectly well there is a camp, and what's more we know where it is. It's on the other side of Crystal Palace Mountains. We know, because we've got a map. So you needn't be so jolly clever about it.'

‘Ah,' retorted Nautical Tallboy, ‘a map you may have, but is it fair and square? Who drew it up?'

‘We drew it up ourselves,' said Elizabeth, rather indignantly. ‘I thought of it, Rex drew it, Guy suggested the forest and the log-cabin, and we put in the pirates because Martin wanted them. So if you're trying to hide anything from us, you just can't!'

‘But how do you know, dear madam, that it isn't all a mere figment of your young imagination?'

‘I don't know anything about a figment,' said Elizabeth. ‘It's something to do with paints, isn't it? But if you mean it's not a
real
island, well it's just as real as you are, anyhow.' She spoke with some heat, for Nautical Tallboy's manner was disdainful.

‘Figment yourself!' added Guy helpfully, though a little late.

Rex said nothing. He was unusually thoughtful. In the secrecy of his heart he was very uneasy about these pirates, and he wished to goodness they had never let themselves be taken captive. It was true that the Robinsons had, at the moment, force on their side: weapons, ammunition, food, and a log-cabin ; and it was good to know that Captain Blackheart's plot against them, whatever it was, had not been entirely successful. But Rex, counting up the advantages, found that they didn't after all amount to much. He himself happened to be very skilful with fire-arms, even such old-fashioned weapons as these muskets; for Phineas had explained them to him; and he had taken an immense interest in them from the first. But the rest of his party knew very little about them. Once the pirates got wind of that, the Robinsons would be in a pretty tight corner; up to now their bluff had been successful, and a couple of unloaded muskets had been enough to frighten the two dismal ruffians into submission. But Rex could see that now, apart from the danger of having such fellows about, these prisoners were likely to be a great
nuisance to him and his comrades in adventure. They would have to be guarded day and night, they would have to be fed, one person's whole time would be taken up with them, they would get in the way of all the fun so joyously planned; and, finally, they wouldn't make it any easier to find the treasure. Rex didn't care two pins about the treasure for its own sake, but he cared very much for the
finding
of it. And so did they all. Elizabeth was so happy in the prospect of giving her mother that old Spanish lace, and Martin so delighted to think that Father was at last to have a sundial, that they neither of them bothered much about possible dangers. Guy alone guessed what was in Rex's mind, and was on the alert to back him up in anything he did for their common safety.

‘Look here!' said Rex. Elizabeth laughed, because Rex was always saying ‘Look here'; it was a family joke. ‘Look here! You two pirates had better make up your minds to be on our side, and help us with our building and all that. We can't always be watching you; we've got to go hunting and fishing and all sorts of things, and unless you promise to behave decently we shall have to tie you up and gag you, and I don't suppose you'd like that. If you try to play us false we'll …' He searched his memory for a moment, and then continued: ‘…we'll clap you in irons and see you hanged at Execution Dock. So what do you say? Will you join our side?'

For a while the two pirates considered this proposal in silence. At length Nautical Tallboy glanced at his companion and asked respectfully: ‘What should one do in a case like this, Mr Murder? You've had so much more experience in our profession than I.'

Rosy with the appearance of goodwill, Bill Murder jumped to his feet and opened his mouth at Rex. ‘Bully for you, my hearty!' he said, with a girlish smile. ‘We'll join you, and there's my hand on it, messmate.'

‘Promise to play fair?' said Rex. ‘Cross your heart, wish you may die, word of honour?'

‘Cross my heart, wish I may die, word of honour as a pirate,' replied Bill Murder.

By the shifty look in the fellow's eye Rex knew him at once for a double-dyed villain, and resolved not to trust him an inch. So he chose not to see the outstretched hand, but at once picked up a musket, signing to Guy to do the same.

‘All right,' he said. ‘Then that's settled. Next thing to do is to go and chop down a few dozen trees and then make a good job of this log-cabin before the night comes. Mr Murder and Mr Tallboy can do that for us, while you and I, Guy, stand by with loaded guns in case we are surprised by the enemy.'

This plan was carried into execution without further delay. The pirates worked hard and well at first, as if anxious to make a good impression; but the boys felt pretty sure that they were planning some treachery
and that their good behaviour was only a pretence. It was alarming to have to trust them with the axes, and Rex shivered in his shoes to think what would happen if they guessed that the muskets were unloaded; but these were risks that had to be taken. By some means or other, however desperate, the log-cabin must be made into a secure refuge from prowling beasts of all kinds, both animal and piratical. Bill Murder wasted a lot of time in talk, arguing with himself and with his brother-villain about the best way to go to work, with every tree they attacked. But at last no fewer than twenty slim trunks were felled and shorn of their branches, and these were dragged one by one to the log-cabin and piled up outside ready for use. It was in Rex's mind that the pirates would escape, and go back to their own camp, as soon as they saw a chance; and although this meant that Captain Blackheart and all his crew would soon be after the children like a pack of wolves, Rex was inclined to think that it would be better so. Sooner or later, in any case, there would be a mass attack. Meanwhile he resolved to get as much work out of these two as he could. So now the tool-box was brought out, and, after an interval for food, all hands—except his own, which held the musket—were set busy with hammers and iron pins. Before the job was half done the pirates got weary of it and began to show signs of temper, but they were still too craven of heart to attempt resistance and a glance at Rex's musket
was always sufficient to quell any rebellion that Mr Murder was inclined for. As for Nautical Tallboy, he took all his instructions from Murder.

‘This ‘ere 'ammering, ‘said the lanky one, ‘is a matter that needs a deal of careful thought. It don't do to rush at it, Nautical, not by no manner of means. Should one ‘it the nail 'ard or sorft, that's the ticklish question. On the one ‘and, if you 'its it 'ard—which I mean to say if you
hits hit hard
—it goes in quicker. But on the other ‘and, if you 'its it too 'ard, if you 'its it unkind, you likely as not damage the 'ammer. Now my old dad always useter say…'

And so it went on, a never-ending flow. The consequence was that a great deal of valuable time was wasted, and if it hadn't been for Guy and Elizabeth, who worked eagerly and loved to see their work growing, the log-cabin would have been not nearly finished by nightfall. Indeed, when dusk came there was still a lot to be done; but at least the larger gaps were filled in, and a proper door provided. The door was fastened to its post with rope instead of hinges, but it was a great deal better than no door at all.

They were all gathered outside surveying their handiwork. It was too dark to work any more. ‘And to-morrow,' said Rex, ‘we'll have to start looking for that treasure.' He gripped his musket tightly, for out of the corner of his eye he could see the pirates edging towards the forest. ‘I say, Guy!' he said, in as ordinary a tone as he could muster. ‘Want to speak
to you a minute.' Guy was at his side in a flash. ‘Get the others inside—quickly! And stay inside with them. See?' Then he wheeled round suddenly and called out: ‘Where are you off to, Mr Murder?' There was no reply. The pirates broke into a run. They were but shadowy figures now, and they soon disappeared among the trees.

Rex ran into the log-cabin and shut the door behind him. ‘They've gone,' he said. ‘They've escaped. And jolly good riddance to them.'

Martin, being very tired after that strenuous day, fell asleep at once on the sandy floor, with Guy's jacket rolled up under his head for a pillow. But long before morning he woke up, all his weariness gone, and try as he might he couldn't get to sleep again, so troubled was he by the loss of poor Fandy. It was strange to be in bed yet not in bed, and rather frightening to be lying awake in the dark, so far from home. Perhaps if the log-cabin had been quite dark it would have been better, but through the chinks in the walls slanted long rays of moonlight that stretched across the floor like pointing fingers. Inside there was no sound but that of the three sleepers gently breathing, with an occasional small grunt from one of the boys; but from outside there came all kinds of queer slight noises, sighings and mutterings and little swishing sounds, as though the forest itself was turning over in its sleep.