第 五 章 · The “Gloria Scott”

. The “Gloria Scott”

Holmes chuckling at the expression upon my face.

“You look a little bewildered,” said he.

“I cannot see how such a message as this could inspire horror. It

seems to me to be rather grotesque than otherwise.”

“Very likely. Yet the fact remains that the reader, who was a

fine, robust old man, was knocked clean down by it as if it had

been the butt end of a pistol.”

“You arouse my curiosity,” said I. “But why did you say just now

that there were very particular reasons why I should study this

case?”

“Because it was the first in which I was ever engaged.”

I had often endeavoured to elicit from my companion what had

first turned his mind in the direction of criminal research, but

had never caught him before in a communicative humour. Now he sat

forward in this armchair and spread out the documents upon his

knees. Then he lit his pipe and sat for some time smoking and

turning them over.

“You never heard me talk of Victor Trevor?” he asked. “He was the

only friend I made during the two years I was at college. I was

never a very sociable fellow, Watson, always rather fond of

moping in my rooms and working out my own little methods of

thought, so that I never mixed much with the men of my year. Bar

fencing and boxing I had few athletic tastes, and then my line of

study was quite distinct from that of the other fellows, so that

we had no points of contact at all. Trevor was the only man I

knew, and that only through the accident of his bull terrier

freezing on to my ankle one morning as I went down to chapel.

“It was a prosaic way of forming a friendship, but it was

effective. I was laid by the heels for ten days, but Trevor used

to come in to inquire after me. At first it was only a minute’s

chat, but soon his visits lengthened, and before the end of the

term we were close friends. He was a hearty, full-blooded fellow,

full of spirits and energy, the very opposite to me in most

respects, but we had some subjects in common, and it was a bond

of union when I found that he was as friendless as I. Finally, he

invited me down to his father’s place at Donnithorpe, in Norfolk,

and I accepted his hospitality for a month of the long vacation.

“Old Trevor was evidently a man of some wealth and consideration,

a J.P. and a landed proprietor. Donnithorpe is a little hamlet

just to the north of Langmere, in the country of the Broads. The

house was an old-fashioned, wide-spread, oak-beamed brick

building, with a fine lime-lined avenue leading up to it. There

was excellent wild-duck shooting in the fens, remarkably good

fishing, a small but select library, taken over, as I understood,

from a former occupant, and a tolerable cook, so that he would be

a fastidious man who could not put in a pleasant month there.

“Trevor senior was a widower, and my friend his only son.

“There had been a daughter, I heard, but she had died of

diphtheria while on a visit to Birmingham. The father interested

me extremely. He was a man of little culture, but with a

considerable amount of rude strength, both physically and

mentally. He knew hardly any books, but he had travelled far, had

seen much of the world. And had remembered all that he had

learned. In person he was a thick-set, burly man with a shock of

grizzled hair, a brown, weather-beaten face, and blue eyes which

were keen to the verge of fierceness. Yet he had a reputation for

kindness and charity on the country-side, and was noted for the

leniency of his sentences from the bench.

“One evening, shortly after my arrival, we were sitting over a

glass of port after dinner, when young Trevor began to talk about

those habits of observation and inference which I had already

formed into a system, although I had not yet appreciated the part

which they were to play in my life. The old man evidently thought

that his son was exaggerating in his description of one or two

trivial feats which I had performed.

“‘Come, now, Mr. Holmes,’ said he, laughing good-humoredly. ‘I’m

an excellent subject, if you can deduce anything from me.’

“‘I fear there is not very much,’ I answered; ‘I might suggest

that you have gone about in fear of some personal attack within

the last twelve months.’

“The laugh faded from his lips, and he stared at me in great

surprise.

“‘Well, that’s true enough,’ said he. ‘You know, Victor,’ turning

to his son, ‘when we broke up that poaching gang, they swore to

knife us, and Sir Edward Holly has actually been attacked. I’ve

always been on my guard since then, though I have no idea how you

know it.’

“‘You have a very handsome stick,’ I answered. ‘By the

inscription I observed that you had not had it more than a year.

But you have taken some pains to bore the head of it and pour

melted lead into the hole so as to make it a formidable weapon. I

argued that you would not take such precautions unless you had

some danger to fear.’

“‘Anything else?’ he asked, smiling.

“‘You have boxed a good deal in your youth.’

“‘Right again. How did you know it? Is my nose knocked a little

out of the straight?’

“‘No,’ said I. ‘It is your ears. They have the peculiar

flattening and thickening which marks the boxing man.’

“‘Anything else?’

“‘You have done a good deal of digging by your callosities.’

“‘Made all my money at the gold fields.’

“‘You have been in New Zealand.’

“‘Right again.’

“‘You have visited Japan.’

“‘Quite true.’

“‘And you have been most intimately associated with some one

whose initials were J. A., and whom you afterwards were eager to

entirely forget.’

“Mr. Trevor stood slowly up, fixed his large blue eyes upon me

with a strange wild stare, and then pitched forward, with his

face among the nutshells which strewed the cloth, in a dead

faint.

“You can imagine, Watson, how shocked both his son and I were.

His attack did not last long, however, for when we undid his

collar, and sprinkled the water from one of the finger-glasses

over his face, he gave a gasp or two and sat up.

“‘Ah, boys,’ said he, forcing a smile, ‘I hope I haven’t

frightened you. Strong as I look, there is a weak place in my

heart, and it does not take much to knock me over. I don’t know

how you manage this, Mr. Holmes, but it seems to me that all the

detectives of fact and of fancy would be children in your hands.

That’s your line of life, sir, and you may take the word of a man

who has seen something of the world.’

“And that recommendation, with the exaggerated estimate of my

ability with which he prefaced it, was, if you will believe me,

Watson, the very first thing which ever made me feel that a

profession might be made out of what had up to that time been the

merest hobby. At the moment, however, I was too much concerned at

the sudden illness of my host to think of anything else.

“‘I hope that I have said nothing to pain you?’ said I.

“‘Well, you certainly touched upon rather a tender point. Might I

ask how you know, and how much you know?’ He spoke now in a

half-jesting fashion, but a look of terror still lurked at the

back of his eyes.

“‘It is simplicity itself,’ said I. ‘When you bared your arm to

draw that fish into the boat I saw that J. A. had been tattooed

in the bend of the elbow. The letters were still legible, but it

was perfectly clear from their blurred appearance, and from the

staining of the skin round them, that efforts had been made to

obliterate them. It was obvious, then, that those initials had

once been very familiar to you, and that you had afterwards

wished to forget them.’

“What an eye you have!” he cried, with a sigh of relief. ‘It is

just as you say. But we won’t talk of it. Of all ghosts the

ghosts of our old lovers are the worst. Come into the

billiard-room and have a quiet cigar.’

“From that day, amid all his cordiality, there was always a touch

of suspicion in Mr. Trevor’s manner towards me. Even his son

remarked it. ‘You’ve given the governor such a turn,’ said he,

‘that he’ll never be sure again of what you know and what you

don’t know.’ He did not mean to show it, I am sure, but it was so

strongly in his mind that it peeped out at every action. At last

I became so convinced that I was causing him uneasiness that I

drew my visit to a close. On the very day, however, before I

left, an incident occurred which proved in the sequel to be of

importance.

“We were sitting out upon the lawn on garden chairs, the three of

us, basking in the sun and admiring the view across the Broads,

when a maid came out to say that there was a man at the door who

wanted to see Mr. Trevor.

“‘What is his name?’ asked my host.

“‘He would not give any.’

“‘What does he want, then?’

“‘He says that you know him, and that he only wants a moment’s

conversation.’

“‘Show him round here.’ An instant afterwards there appeared a

little wizened fellow with a cringing manner and a shambling

style of walking. He wore an open jacket, with a splotch of tar

on the sleeve, a red-and-black check shirt, dungaree trousers,

and heavy boots badly worn. His face was thin and brown and

crafty, with a perpetual smile upon it, which showed an irregular

line of yellow teeth, and his crinkled hands were half closed in

a way that is distinctive of sailors. As he came slouching across

the lawn I heard Mr. Trevor make a sort of hiccoughing noise in

his throat, and jumping out of his chair, he ran into the house.

He was back in a moment, and I smelt a strong reek of brandy as

he passed me.

“‘Well, my man,’ said he, ‘what can I do for you?’

“The sailor stood looking at him with puckered eyes, and with the

same loose-lipped smile upon his face.

“‘You don’t know me?’ he asked.

“‘Why, dear me, it is surely Hudson,’ said Mr. Trevor in a tone

of surprise.

“‘Hudson it is, sir,’ said the seaman. ‘Why, it’s thirty year and

more since I saw you last. Here you are in your house, and me

still picking my salt meat out of the harness cask.’

“‘Tut, you will find that I have not forgotten old times,’ cried

Mr. Trevor, and, walking towards the sailor, he said something in

a low voice. ‘Go into the kitchen,’ he continued out loud, ‘and

you will get food and drink. I have no doubt that I shall find

you a situation.’

“‘Thank you, sir,’ said the seaman, touching his forelock. ‘I’m

just off a two-yearer in an eight-knot tramp, short-handed at

that, and I wants a rest. I thought I’d get it either with Mr.

Beddoes or with you.’

“‘Ah!’ cried Trevor. ‘You know where Mr. Beddoes is?’

“‘Bless you, sir, I know where all my old friends are,’ said the

fellow with a sinister smile, and he slouched off after the maid

to the kitchen. Mr. Trevor mumbled something to us about having

been shipmate with the man when he was going back to the

diggings, and then, leaving us on the lawn, he went indoors. An

hour later, when we entered the house, we found him stretched

dead drunk upon the dining-room sofa. The whole incident left a

most ugly impression upon my mind, and I was not sorry next day

to leave Donnithorpe behind me, for I felt that my presence must

be a source of embarrassment to my friend.

“All this occurred during the first month of the long vacation. I

went up to my London rooms, where I spent seven weeks working out

a few experiments in organic chemistry. One day, however, when

the autumn was far advanced and the vacation drawing to a close,

I received a telegram from my friend imploring me to return to

Donnithorpe, and saying that he was in great need of my advice

and assistance. Of course I dropped everything and set out for

the North once more.

“He met me with the dog-cart at the station, and I saw at a

glance that the last two months had been very trying ones for

him. He had grown thin and careworn, and had lost the loud,

cheery manner for which he had been remarkable.

“‘The governor is dying,’ were the first words he said.

“‘Impossible!’ I cried. ‘What is the matter?’

“‘Apoplexy. Nervous shock, He’s been on the verge all day. I

doubt if we shall find him alive.’

“I was, as you may think, Watson, horrified at this unexpected

news.

“‘What has caused it?’ I asked.

“‘Ah, that is the point. Jump in and we can talk it over while we

drive. You remember that fellow who came upon the evening before

you left us?’

“‘Perfectly.’

“‘Do you know who it was that we let into the house that day?’

“‘I have no idea.’

“‘It was the devil, Holmes,’ he cried.

“I stared at him in astonishment.

“‘Yes, it was the devil himself. We have not had a peaceful hour

since—not one. The governor has never held up his head from that

evening, and now the life has been crushed out of him and his

heart broken, all through this accursed Hudson.’

“‘What power had he, then?’

“‘Ah, that is what I would give so much to know. The kindly,

charitable, good old governor—how could he have fallen into the

clutches of such a ruffian! But I am so glad that you have come,

Holmes. I trust very much to your judgment and discretion, and I

know that you will advise me for the best.’

“We were dashing along the smooth white country road, with the

long stretch of the Broads in front of us glimmering in the red

light of the setting sun. From a grove upon our left I could

already see the high chimneys and the flag-staff which marked the

squire’s dwelling.

“‘My father made the fellow gardener,’ said my companion, ‘and

then, as that did not satisfy him, he was promoted to be butler.

The house seemed to be at his mercy, and he wandered about and

did what he chose in it. The maids complained of his drunken

habits and his vile language. The dad raised their wages all

round to recompense them for the annoyance. The fellow would take

the boat and my father’s best gun and treat himself to little

shooting trips. And all this with such a sneering, leering,

insolent face that I would have knocked him down twenty times

over if he had been a man of my own age. I tell you, Holmes, I

have had to keep a tight hold upon myself all this time; and now

I am asking myself whether, if I had let myself go a little more,

I might not have been a wiser man.

“‘Well, matters went from bad to worse with us, and this animal

Hudson became more and more intrusive, until at last, on making

some insolent reply to my father in my presence one day, I took

him by the shoulders and turned him out of the room. He slunk

away with a livid face and two venomous eyes which uttered more

threats than his tongue could do. I don’t know what passed

between the poor dad and him after that, but the dad came to me

next day and asked me whether I would mind apologising to Hudson.

I refused, as you can imagine, and asked my father how he could

allow such a wretch to take such liberties with himself and his

household.

“‘“Ah, my boy,” said he, “it is all very well to talk, but you

don’t know how I am placed. But you shall know, Victor. I’ll see

that you shall know, come what may. You wouldn’t believe harm of

your poor old father, would you, lad?” He was very much moved,

and shut himself up in the study all day, where I could see

through the window that he was writing busily.

“‘That evening there came what seemed to me to be a grand

release, for Hudson told us that he was going to leave us. He

walked into the dining-room as we sat after dinner, and announced

his intention in the thick voice of a half-drunken man.

“‘“I’ve had enough of Norfolk,” said he. “I’ll run down to Mr.

Beddoes in Hampshire. He’ll be as glad to see me as you were, I

daresay.”

“‘“You’re not going away in an unkind spirit, Hudson, I hope,”

said my father, with a tameness which made my blood boil.

“‘“I’ve not had my ’pology,” said he sulkily, glancing in my

direction.

“‘“Victor, you will acknowledge that you have used this worthy

fellow rather roughly,” said the dad, turning to me.

“‘“On the contrary, I think that we have both shown extraordinary

patience towards him,” I answered.

“‘“Oh, you do, do you?” he snarls. “Very good, mate. We’ll see

about that!” He slouched out of the room, and half an hour

afterwards left the house, leaving my father in a state of

pitiable nervousness. Night after night I heard him pacing his

room, and it was just as he was recovering his confidence that

the blow did at last fall.

“‘And how?’ I asked eagerly.

“‘In a most extraordinary fashion. A letter arrived for my father

yesterday evening, bearing the Fordingbridge postmark. My father

read it, clapped both his hands to his head, and began running

round the room in little circles like a man who has been driven

out of his senses. When I at last drew him down on to the sofa,

his mouth and eyelids were all puckered on one side, and I saw

that he had a stroke. Dr. Fordham came over at once. We put him

to bed; but the paralysis has spread, he has shown no sign of

returning consciousness, and I think that we shall hardly find

him alive.’

“‘You horrify me, Trevor!’ I cried. ‘What then could have been in

this letter to cause so dreadful a result?’

“‘Nothing. There lies the inexplicable part of it. The message

was absurd and trivial. Ah, my God, it is as I feared!’

“As he spoke we came round the curve of the avenue, and saw in

the fading light that every blind in the house had been drawn

down. As we dashed up to the door, my friend’s face convulsed

with grief, a gentleman in black emerged from it.

“‘When did it happen, doctor?’ asked Trevor.

“‘Almost immediately after you left.’

“‘Did he recover consciousness?’

“‘For an instant before the end.’

“‘Any message for me?’

“‘Only that the papers were in the back drawer of the Japanese

cabinet.’

“My friend ascended with the doctor to the chamber of death,

while I remained in the study, turning the whole matter over and

over in my head, and feeling as sombre as ever I had done in my

life. What was the past of this Trevor, pugilist, traveler, and

gold-digger, and how had he placed himself in the power of this

acid-faced seaman? Why, too, should he faint at an allusion to

the half-effaced initials upon his arm, and die of fright when he

had a letter from Fordingbridge? Then I remembered that

Fordingbridge was in Hampshire, and that this Mr. Beddoes, whom

the seaman had gone to visit and presumably to blackmail, had

also been mentioned as living in Hampshire. The letter, then,

might either come from Hudson, the seaman, saying that he had

betrayed the guilty secret which appeared to exist, or it might

come from Beddoes, warning an old confederate that such a

betrayal was imminent. So far it seemed clear enough. But then

how could this letter be trivial and grotesque, as described by

the son? He must have misread it. If so, it must have been one of

those ingenious secret codes which mean one thing while they seem

to mean another. I must see this letter. If there were a hidden

meaning in it, I was confident that I could pluck it forth. For

an hour I sat pondering over it in the gloom, until at last a

weeping maid brought in a lamp, and close at her heels came my

friend Trevor, pale but composed, with these very papers which

lie upon my knee held in his grasp. He sat down opposite to me,

drew the lamp to the edge of the table, and handed me a short

note scribbled, as you see, upon a single sheet of grey paper.

‘The supply of game for London is going steadily up,’ it ran.

‘Head-keeper Hudson, we believe, has been now told to receive all

orders for fly paper and for preservation of your hen pheasant’s

life.’

“I daresay my face looked as bewildered as yours did just now

when first I read this message. Then I reread it very carefully.

It was evidently as I had thought, and some secret meaning must

lie buried in this strange combination of words. Or could it be

that there was a prearranged significance to such phrases as ‘fly

paper’ and ‘hen pheasant’? Such a meaning would be arbitrary and

could not be deduced in any way. And yet I was loath to believe

that this was the case, and the presence of the word ‘Hudson’

seemed to show that the subject of the message was as I had

guessed, and that it was from Beddoes rather than the sailor. I

tried it backwards, but the combination ‘life pheasant’s hen’ was

not encouraging. Then I tried alternate words, but neither ‘The

of for’ nor ‘supply game London’ promised to throw any light upon

it. And then in an instant the key of the riddle was in my hands,

and I saw that every third word, beginning with the first, would

give a message which might well drive old Trevor to despair.

“It was short and terse, the warning, as I now read it to my

companion:

“‘The game is up. Hudson has told all. Fly for your life.’

“Victor Trevor sank his face into his shaking hands. ‘It must be

that, I suppose,’ said he. ‘This is worse than death, for it

means disgrace as well. But what is the meaning of these

“head-keepers” and “hen pheasants”?’

“‘It means nothing to the message, but it might mean a good deal

to us if we had no other means of discovering the sender. You see

that he has begun by writing “The ... game ... is,” and so on.

Afterwards he had, to fulfill the prearranged cipher, to fill in

any two words in each space. He would naturally use the first

words which came to his mind, and if there were so many which

referred to sport among them, you may be tolerably sure that he

is either an ardent shot or interested in breeding. Do you know

anything of this Beddoes?’

“‘Why, now that you mention it,’ said he, ‘I remember that my

poor father used to have an invitation from him to shoot over his

preserves every autumn.’

“‘Then it is undoubtedly from him that the note comes,’ said I.

‘It only remains for us to find out what this secret was which

the sailor Hudson seems to have held over the heads of these two

wealthy and respected men.’

“‘Alas, Holmes, I fear that it is one of sin and shame!’ cried my

friend. ‘But from you I shall have no secrets. Here is the

statement which was drawn up by my father when he knew that the

danger from Hudson had become imminent. I found it in the

Japanese cabinet, as he told the doctor. Take it and read it to

me, for I have neither the strength nor the courage to do it

myself.’

“These are the very papers, Watson, which he handed to me, and I

will read them to you, as I read them in the old study that night

to him. They are endorsed outside, as you see, ‘Some particulars

of the voyage of the bark _Gloria Scott_, from her leaving

Falmouth on the 8th October, 1855, to her destruction in N. lat.

15º 20’, W. long. 25º 14’ on Nov. 6th.’ It is in the form of a

letter, and runs in this way:

“‘My dear, dear son,—Now that approaching disgrace begins to

darken the closing years of my life, I can write with all truth

and honesty that it is not the terror of the law, it is not the

loss of my position in the county, nor is it my fall in the eyes

of all who have known me, which cuts me to the heart; but it is

the thought that you should come to blush for me—you who love me

and who have seldom, I hope, had reason to do other than respect

me. But if the blow falls which is forever hanging over me, then

I should wish you to read this, that you may know straight from

me how far I have been to blame. On the other hand, if all should

go well (which may kind God Almighty grant!), then if by any

chance this paper should be still undestroyed and should fall

into your hands, I conjure you, by all you hold sacred, by the

memory of your dear mother, and by the love which had been

between us, to hurl it into the fire and to never give one

thought to it again.

“‘If then your eye goes on to read this line, I know that I shall

already have been exposed and dragged from my home, or as is more

likely, for you know that my heart is weak, by lying with my

tongue sealed forever in death. In either case the time for

suppression is past, and every word which I tell you is the naked

truth, and this I swear as I hope for mercy.

“‘My name, dear lad, is not Trevor. I was James Armitage in my

younger days, and you can understand now the shock that it was to

me a few weeks ago when your college friend addressed me in words

which seemed to imply that he had surmised my secret. As Armitage

it was that I entered a London banking house, and as Armitage I

was convicted of breaking my country’s laws, and was sentenced to

transportation. Do not think very harshly of me, laddie. It was a

debt of honour, so called, which I had to pay, and I used money

which was not my own to do it, in the certainty that I could

replace it before there could be any possibility of its being

missed. But the most dreadful ill-luck pursued me. The money

which I had reckoned upon never came to hand, and a premature

examination of accounts exposed my deficit. The case might have

been dealt leniently with, but the laws were more harshly

administered thirty years ago than now, and on my twenty-third

birthday I found myself chained as a felon with thirty-seven

other convicts in ’tween-decks of the barque _Gloria Scott_,

bound for Australia.

“‘It was the year ’55 when the Crimean war was at its height, and

the old convict ships had been largely used as transports in the

Black Sea. The government was compelled, therefore, to use

smaller and less suitable vessels for sending out their

prisoners. The _Gloria Scott_ had been in the Chinese tea trade,

but she was an old-fashioned, heavy-bowed, broad-beamed craft,

and the new clippers had cut her out. She was a five-hundred-ton

boat, and besides her thirty-eight gaol-birds, she carried

twenty-six of a crew, eighteen soldiers, a captain, three mates,

a doctor, a chaplain, and four warders. Nearly a hundred souls

were in her, all told, when we set sail from Falmouth.

“‘The partitions between the cells of the convicts, instead of

being of thick oak, as is usual in convict-ships, were quite thin

and frail. The man next to me, upon the aft side, was one whom I

had particularly noticed when we were led down the quay. He was a

young man with a clear, hairless face, a long, thin nose, and

rather nut-cracker jaws. He carried his head very jauntily in the

air, had a swaggering style of walking, and was, above all else,

remarkable for his extraordinary height. I don’t think any of our

heads would have come up to his shoulder, and I am sure that he

could not have measured less than six and a half feet. It was

strange among so many sad and weary faces to see one which was

full of energy and resolution. The sight of it was to me like a

fire in a snowstorm. I was glad, then, to find that he was my

neighbour, and gladder still when, in the dead of the night, I

heard a whisper close to my ear, and found that he had managed to

cut an opening in the board which separated us.

“‘“Hallao, chummy!” said he, “what’s your name, and what are you

here for?”

“‘I answered him, and asked in turn who I was talking with.

“‘“I’m Jack Prendergast,” said he, “and by God! You’ll learn to

bless my name before you’ve done with me.”

“‘I remembered hearing of his case, for it was one which had made

an immense sensation throughout the country some time before my

own arrest. He was a man of good family and of great ability, but

of incurably vicious habits, who had by an ingenious system of

fraud obtained huge sums of money from the leading London

merchants.

“‘“Ha, ha! You remember my case!” said he proudly.

“‘“Very well, indeed.”

“‘“Then maybe you remember something queer about it?”

“‘“What was that, then?”

“‘“I’d had nearly a quarter of a million, hadn’t I?”

“‘“So it was said.”

“‘“But none was recovered, eh?”

“‘“No.”

“‘“Well, where d’ye suppose the balance is?” he asked.

“‘“I have no idea,” said I.

“‘“Right between my finger and thumb,” he cried. “By God! I’ve

got more pounds to my name than you’ve hairs on your head. And if

you’ve money, my son, and know how to handle it and spread it,

you can do _anything!_ Now, you don’t think it likely that a man

who could do anything is going to wear his breeches out sitting

in the stinking hold of a rat-gutted, beetle-ridden, mouldy old

coffin of a China coaster. No, sir, such a man will look after

himself and will look after his chums. You may lay to that! You

hold on to him, and you may kiss the book that he’ll haul you

through.”

“‘That was his style of talk, and at first I thought it meant

nothing; but after a while, when he had tested me and sworn me in

with all possible solemnity, he let me understand that there

really was a plot to gain command of the vessel. A dozen of the

prisoners had hatched it before they came aboard, Prendergast was

the leader, and his money was the motive power.

“‘“I’d a partner,” said he, “a rare good man, as true as a stock

to a barrel. He’s got the dibbs, he has, and where do you think

he is at this moment? Why, he’s the chaplain of this ship—the

chaplain, no less! He came aboard with a black coat, and his

papers right, and money enough in his box to buy the thing right

up from keel to main-truck. The crew are his, body and soul. He

could buy ’em at so much a gross with a cash discount, and he did

it before ever they signed on. He’s got two of the warders and

Mercer, the second mate, and he’d get the captain himself, if he

thought him worth it.”

“‘“What are we to do, then?” I asked.

“‘“What do you think?” said he. “We’ll make the coats of some of

these soldiers redder than ever the tailor did.”

“‘“But they are armed,” said I.

“‘“And so shall we be, my boy. There’s a brace of pistols for

every mother’s son of us, and if we can’t carry this ship, with

the crew at our back, it’s time we were all sent to a young

misses’ boarding-school. You speak to your mate upon the left

to-night, and see if he is to be trusted.”

“‘I did so, and found my other neighbour to be a young fellow in

much the same position as myself, whose crime had been forgery.

His name was Evans, but he afterwards changed it, like myself,

and he is now a rich and prosperous man in the south of England.

He was ready enough to join the conspiracy, as the only means of

saving ourselves, and before we had crossed the Bay there were

only two of the prisoners who were not in the secret. One of

these was of weak mind, and we did not dare to trust him, and the

other was suffering from jaundice, and could not be of any use to

us.

““From the beginning there was really nothing to prevent us from

taking possession of the ship. The crew were a set of ruffians,

specially picked for the job. The sham chaplain came into our

cells to exhort us, carrying a black bag, supposed to be full of

tracts, and so often did he come that by the third day we had

each stowed away at the foot of our beds a file, a brace of

pistols, a pound of powder, and twenty slugs. Two of the warders

were agents of Prendergast, and the second mate was his

right-hand man. The captain, the two mates, two warders,

Lieutenant Martin, his eighteen soldiers, and the doctor were all

that we had against us. Yet, safe as it was, we determined to

neglect no precaution, and to make our attack suddenly by night.

It came, however, more quickly than we expected, and in this way.

“‘One evening, about the third week after our start, the doctor

had come down to see one of the prisoners who was ill, and

putting his hand down on the bottom of his bunk he felt the

outline of the pistols. If he had been silent he might have blown

the whole thing, but he was a nervous little chap, so he gave a

cry of surprise and turned so pale that the man knew what was up

in an instant and seized him. He was gagged before he could give

the alarm, and tied down upon the bed. He had unlocked the door

that led to the deck, and we were through it in a rush. The two

sentries were shot down, and so was a corporal who came running

to see what was the matter. There were two more soldiers at the

door of the state-room, and their muskets seemed not to be

loaded, for they never fired upon us, and they were shot while

trying to fix their bayonets. Then we rushed on into the

captain’s cabin, but as we pushed open the door there was an

explosion from within, and there he lay with his brains smeared

over the chart of the Atlantic which was pinned upon the table,

while the chaplain stood with a smoking pistol in his hand at his

elbow. The two mates had both been seized by the crew, and the

whole business seemed to be settled.

“‘The state-room was next the cabin, and we flocked in there and

flopped down on the settees, all speaking together, for we were

just mad with the feeling that we were free once more. There were

lockers all round, and Wilson, the sham chaplain, knocked one of

them in, and pulled out a dozen of brown sherry. We cracked off

the necks of the bottles, poured the stuff out into tumblers, and

were just tossing them off, when in an instant without warning

there came the roar of muskets in our ears, and the saloon was so

full of smoke that we could not see across the table. When it

cleared again the place was a shambles. Wilson and eight others

were wriggling on the top of each other on the floor, and the

blood and the brown sherry on that table turn me sick now when I

think of it. We were so cowed by the sight that I think we should

have given the job up if it had not been for Prendergast. He

bellowed like a bull and rushed for the door with all that were

left alive at his heels. Out we ran, and there on the poop were

the lieutenant and ten of his men. The swing skylights above the

saloon table had been a bit open, and they had fired on us

through the slit. We got on them before they could load, and they

stood to it like men; but we had the upper hand of them, and in

five minutes it was all over. My God! Was there ever a

slaughter-house like that ship! Prendergast was like a raging

devil, and he picked the soldiers up as if they had been children

and threw them overboard alive or dead. There was one sergeant

that was horribly wounded and yet kept on swimming for a

surprising time, until some one in mercy blew out his brains.

When the fighting was over there was no one left of our enemies

except just the warders, the mates, and the doctor.

“‘It was over them that the great quarrel arose. There were many

of us who were glad enough to win back our freedom, and yet who

had no wish to have murder on our souls. It was one thing to

knock the soldiers over with their muskets in their hands, and it

was another to stand by while men were being killed in cold

blood. Eight of us, five convicts and three sailors, said that we

would not see it done. But there was no moving Prendergast and

those who were with him. Our only chance of safety lay in making

a clean job of it, said he, and he would not leave a tongue with

power to wag in a witness-box. It nearly came to our sharing the

fate of the prisoners, but at last he said that if we wished we

might take a boat and go. We jumped at the offer, for we were

already sick of these bloodthirsty doings, and we saw that there

would be worse before it was done. We were given a suit of

sailors’ togs each, a barrel of water, two casks, one of junk and

one of biscuits, and a compass. Prendergast threw us over a

chart, told us that we were shipwrecked mariners whose ship had

foundered in lat. 15º N. and long 25º W., and then cut the

painter and let us go.

“‘And now I come to the most surprising part of my story, my dear

son. The seamen had hauled the foreyard aback during the rising,

but now as we left them they brought it square again, and as

there was a light wind from the north and east the barque began

to draw slowly away from us. Our boat lay, rising and falling,

upon the long, smooth rollers, and Evans and I, who were the most

educated of the party, were sitting in the sheets working out our

position and planning what coast we should make for. It was a

nice question, for the Cape de Verds were about five hundred

miles to the north of us, and the African coast about seven

hundred to the east. On the whole, as the wind was coming round

to the north, we thought that Sierra Leone might be best, and

turned our head in that direction, the barque being at that time

nearly hull down on our starboard quarter. Suddenly as we looked

at her we saw a dense black cloud of smoke shoot up from her,

which hung like a monstrous tree upon the sky line. A few seconds

later a roar like thunder burst upon our ears, and as the smoke

thinned away there was no sign left of the _Gloria Scott_. In an

instant we swept the boat’s head round again and pulled with all

our strength for the place where the haze still trailing over the

water marked the scene of this catastrophe.

“‘It was a long hour before we reached it, and at first we feared

that we had come too late to save any one. A splintered boat and

a number of crates and fragments of spars rising and falling on

the waves showed us where the vessel had foundered; but there was

no sign of life, and we had turned away in despair when we heard

a cry for help, and saw at some distance a piece of wreckage with

a man lying stretched across it. When we pulled him aboard the

boat he proved to be a young seaman of the name of Hudson, who

was so burned and exhausted that he could give us no account of

what had happened until the following morning.

“‘It seemed that after we had left, Prendergast and his gang had

proceeded to put to death the five remaining prisoners. The two

warders had been shot and thrown overboard, and so also had the

third mate. Prendergast then descended into the ’tween-decks and

with his own hands cut the throat of the unfortunate surgeon.

There only remained the first mate, who was a bold and active

man. When he saw the convict approaching him with the bloody

knife in his hand he kicked off his bonds, which he had somehow

contrived to loosen, and rushing down the deck he plunged into

the after-hold.

“‘A dozen convicts, who descended with their pistols in search of

him, found him with a match-box in his hand seated beside an open

powder barrel, which was one of a hundred carried on board, and

swearing that he would blow all hands up if he were in any way

molested. An instant later the explosion occurred, though Hudson

thought it was caused by the misdirected bullet of one of the

convicts rather than the mate’s match. Be the cause what it may,

it was the end of the _Gloria Scott_ and of the rabble who held

command of her.

“‘Such, in a few words, my dear boy, is the history of this

terrible business in which I was involved. Next day we were

picked up by the brig _Hotspur_, bound for Australia, whose

captain found no difficulty in believing that we were the

survivors of a passenger ship which had foundered. The transport

ship _Gloria Scott_ was set down by the Admiralty as being lost

at sea, and no word has ever leaked out as to her true fate.

After an excellent voyage the _Hotspur_ landed us at Sydney,

where Evans and I changed our names and made our way to the

diggings, where, among the crowds who were gathered from all

nations, we had no difficulty in losing our former identities.

“‘The rest I need not relate. We prospered, we travelled, we came

back as rich colonials to England, and we bought country estates.

For more than twenty years we have led peaceful and useful lives,

and we hoped that our past was forever buried. Imagine, then, my

feelings when in the seaman who came to us I recognised instantly

the man who had been picked off the wreck. He had tracked us down

somehow, and had set himself to live upon our fears. You will

understand now how it was that I strove to keep the peace with

him, and you will in some measure sympathise with me in the fears

which fill me, now that he has gone from me to his other victim

with threats upon his tongue.’

“Underneath is written in a hand so shaky as to be hardly

legible, ‘Beddoes writes in cipher to say H. has told all. Sweet

Lord, have mercy on our souls!’

“That was the narrative which I read that night to young Trevor,

and I think, Watson, that under the circumstances it was a

dramatic one. The good fellow was heartbroken at it, and went out

to the Terai tea planting, where I hear that he is doing well. As

to the sailor and Beddoes, neither of them was ever heard of

again after that day on which the letter of warning was written.

They both disappeared utterly and completely. No complaint had

been lodged with the police, so that Beddoes had mistaken a

threat for a deed. Hudson had been seen lurking about, and it was

believed by the police that he had done away with Beddoes and had

fled. For myself I believe that the truth was exactly the

opposite. I think that it is most probable that Beddoes, pushed

to desperation and believing himself to have been already

betrayed, had revenged himself upon Hudson, and had fled from the

country with as much money as he could lay his hands on. Those

are the facts of the case, Doctor, and if they are of any use to

your collection, I am sure that they are very heartily at your

service.”

VI.