The ships of old were the noblest ships,"Get over here, boy!" Bellowed old man Craig.
The boy...? That's me.... Thomas..... Thomas Craig. I had been sent to live with my uncle, Captain Joseph T. Craig, after the death of my father and mother. For now he was the only kith and kin that I had. Folks in the village had it that the Captain was a man of means and could well be worth a fortune in gold, but was either squirreling it away somewhere or had lost it to the dreaded buccaneers that haunted these mysterious waters. But if this was a fact it was beyond me to figure it, for he lived a life of frugality and expected the same of me. Captain Craig was a seafaring man who had never set his mind to marry, much less to care for a lad such as I. The old man spent the bigger portion of his time at sea and was seldom home, but when he was home he wasn't warm and pleasant with me as my father had been. Captain Craig was accustomed to living alone and was neither given to hospitality nor idle talk. But, I never really expected an old tar like Uncle to be keen to the ways of a lad. Oft times I felt that my young ways were a most miserable intrusion into Uncle's rigid lifestyle. I reckoned that I owed him a debt of gratitude for taking me in after sickness claimed my folks and I therefore, determined to repay him someday, somehow.
" I swear, I'll languish away afore ya' get the victuals on the table, lad"! Protested the old man.
Whilst the Captain was at sea, I was ordinarily left alone to tend to the dingy hovel that Uncle Joseph called home. The rustic stone cottage sat nigh to the wharf of a fishing village, for that was the haven that Captain Craig fancied to winter in.
The simply, and somewhat crudely furnished cottage clearly lacked the touch that an "Auntie Craig" might have added. Rain gear and boat oars and other such paraphernalia pertaining to boats cluttered the main room. The large fireplace provided us with heat in the winter and light at night and was nearly the only thing that brought a touch of homeliness to the place.
That evening as the two of us sat at our meager repast the remote clangor of ship's rigging and the lonely cry of the gulls in the distance were the only sounds to break the grueling silence.
At length the old man paused from his meal. Peering up through his thick gray eyebrows he announced,
"Thomas, I'll be settin' sail on the morrow for the Mediterranean. Ms. Lox will look in on ya' now and again, so I want ya' to mind your manners and don't ya' be getting into any mischief"!
"But Uncle," I started. "Couldn't I be going to sea with ya' this time? IE
The captain's reply was quick and stern.
"Thomas! We've discussed this before! The sea's no place for a lad! And that's what you be, but a lad! Why you've never spent so much as a day on the sea, and she's a mad and contemptuous wench, she is! You'd lose your stomach; if not thy very heart out there, boy! Nay, but you'll be a staying right here on dry land, ya' will, and that's me final word"!
My Uncle was a severe man, not at all like the cheery, plump dame who lived just over the dale. Ms. Lox was her name and she was kindly and good. And tho' I deemed it a wicked notion, I oft wished that she might be my kindred in the stead of dear Uncle Joseph T. But poor Ms. Lox was busy enough with her own, for she was widowed and had her own brood of wee ones to tend to. Nonetheless, being the mother that she was, she would always find some time to drop over with a bit of something for me to eat and to make sure everythin' was all right. She'd make a fuss about my clothes or hair and be sure I'd kept up with my studies. I never did go hungry, for Ms. Lox would often drop off a bit of rabbit stew or a morsel from her own table. And though unlike my own dear mother, (May the Good Lord rest her soul,) she was the nearest thing I had to a mother now and for this I was right grateful.
Next morning Captain Craig arose before dawn to make ready for his journey. I lay there awake, but not opening my eyes for I waited for my uncle to be gone so that I myself might go to the docks. As soon as uncle had left, and while the sun still sat low on the eastern horizon I started for the wharf to watch cargo being loaded onto the deck of Uncle Joseph's ship. It was a magnificent ship, and seaworthy, as was the crew that possessed her. Now bein' the curious lad that I was I nosed about trying to discover what it was that my uncle was taking aboard for his voyage. There was an air of secrecy in the crew's manner as they hurried to load sacks and barrels onto the deck and down below.
"There's only one way to prove what's on board," I Thought. "And that's ol' Smollett". Straining my eyes I searched the docks for the familiar face of my friend. Then I spotted Smollett's old cock hat and saw him there, puffing his pipe over by the mooring post. I strolled slowly towards Smollett, my hands in my pockets, and whistling a tune, for I hoped to appear nonchalant and idle.
"Good Smollett, how be ya' this fine morning"? I started. Smollet tapped his pipe on his palm and smiled a broad smile, revealing the lack of ivory in his mouth.
"Aye, 'tis a fine morning, young Thomas, and I'm feeling cheery. Now pray tell me what it is that brings thee to the docks this fine mornin', laddieE
Smollett's eyes became keen. "And pray tell me why thou readiest not thyself for school"?
"IE've come to see me uncle off, and to bid him God's Speed on his journey". I replied.
"Indeed"! Responded Smollett. His eyes wide in mock surprise. "And when came the sudden change of heart in the old man"? For Smollett knew Joseph Craig well. And he knew that the Captain would not have me at the docks idling my time away.
"Now Thomas, me young blade, tell me what it truly is that brings thee here whilst thy Uncle's ship still sits moored to this dock"? Smollett looked into my eyes and smiled a shrewd, knowing smile. I was nigh to being pleased that I couldn't hide the matter from 'ol Smollett, but I'd never have let on.
Edward Smollett, once an able-bodied seaman, had met with a mishap at sea that had left him with three less fingers, a limp and the job of a stevedore. I enjoyed listening to the tall tales and adventurous stories that the swarthy old seaman often told, though I supposed that dear Smollett enjoyed telling them even more.
I answered in a voice nigh to a whisper. "Well, good friend". Smollett leaned forward to listen. "I'd be knowing what it is that the deck hands be loading onto Uncle's ship, and I reckoned that you could tell, if anyone could tell".
"Aye, and that I could". Answered Smollett. " But I've been sworn to secrecy by none other than thy uncle himself. And being a man of honour, though some think me mean, I canna' break me word". " Now young Thomas, take thee this penny and be off with thee before thy uncle spies both thee and me frittering away the time and we both be the worst for it"!
Thus, I resolved to put the matter out of my mindEfor the time being. But one thing I would not be dismissed for, even for a penny, was to watch as my uncle's square-rigger, The Seahawk, set out majestically for the high seas with her white sails billowing in the wind like the breast of a proud bird.
"Some day," Thought I. " I'll prove myself a sailor".
Buccaneers! ~That very night, in a dimly lighted corner of the smoke-filled tavern called," The Jackal", a den for some of the most heartless buccaneers and cutthroats ever to set sail on the high seas, sat three wretched fellows of evil repute. There, unbeknownst to Captain Craig, they laid pernicious plans to set upon the Seahawk and her crew. For they knew that she bore most precious cargo.
Briggins, the largest and roughest of the three spoke gruffly to the two other men. "Aye me hardies, ye heard me right! Gold sovereigns stashed in the grain sacks! Even now Captain Craig is sailing with a good head wind, south to the Mediterranean. He'll put up in the Port of Lisboa in Portugal, and not raise anchor for three days. I say that we make haste to the Straight of Gibraltar, and thar, we fall on the old man and seize the gold"! We'll sail into the Straight b'fore the Seahawk, and lay wait for her. Once she's ours we'll split the booty amongst the three of us and thar we'll scuttle the ship and be done with the matter! What say ye scurvy-knaves to that"?
Bartlett, a gaunt, hollow-eyed, haggardly man twisted his face into an ugly grin. Then leaning slowly forward he croaked in a low hoarse voice. " The plan seems a rewarding one to me, but we'll not scuttle the Seahawk. For she is a grand ship and to me liking and I 'ave me own plans for her, I do". "For I'd be off to the Caribbean, a pirate's paradise, they say, and I need a bonny ship for the jaunt"
"And what say ye, McGuire"? questioned Bartlett.
"The ship be thine; the gold sovereigns mine"! Recited McGuire with a sinister laugh that would send chills up the spine.
Finally Briggins exclaimed. "And I say we lift our glasses high in a toast to the sea which provides us with the wealth of others"! And with that they lifted their glasses high in baneful salute.
~ A Young Boy's Prayer ~
At home in my uncle's cottage that night, I laid aside my studies and wistfully began to thumb through the pages of the old, worn Family Bible that had belonged to my father and mother. Other than the old Bible, my father wasn't able to leave me much other than my Christian heritage; (though it should not be forgotten that a Christian upbringing is of more worth than gold or silver). Even the land and house we had lived in was mortgaged to Viscount Pitts, an unscrupulous creditor and an unsavoury fellow by nature. A "poor, rich man", as father called him.
As I sat by the crackling fire, entranced by the flames that danced merrily in the hearth, I reminisced the nights that my Father would sit and read my favourite stories aloud by the fireside at home. I missed my folks immensely, but within the pages of this old, worn Book burned a glowing flame of hope. For they held the promise of life eternal. I believed that I would someday be united once again with my beloved mother and father in the Hereafter, but until that day, I determined in my heart that I would stay true to the Christian teachings that my parents had instilled in me as a young child. As I pondered these things I commenced, almost unwittingly, to speak a prayer. I remember I spoke in a manner that one might use when speaking with a friend. So natural was the tone of my voice, that Red, Uncle Craig's silken Irish Setter who was warming herself by the inglenook perked her ears as if wondering if the Captain had returned unexpectedly.
" Dear Lord". I prayed. " I canna' understand why you've permitted these things to come about in my life". " It seems to me that I lost so much when I lost my folks. Yet in Your Word, Lord, You said that, "All things work together for good to them that love God".
Then, in a preternatural moment, I felt a presence, as if my father were there in the room. Reverently I spoke, " Dear Father, I've missed thee and Mother much, yet I've tried to be brave. I've grown a bit since you left, Father". A lump gathered in my throat and my voice trembled. "I'll always hold thee both dear. I'm trying to be patient with Uncle Joseph, but he's just not the father'n type, it seems".
I opened the Bible and, there, written on the yellowing and faded page in my Mother's own script, was a poem.
Sleep on, beloved, sleep, and take thy rest;
Lay down thy head upon thy Savior's Breast;
I love thee well, but Jesus loves thee best:
Goodnight!
Until the shadows from this earth are cast,
Until He gathers in His sheaves at last,
Until the twilight gloom is over passed,
Goodnight!
Only " Goodnight"! beloved and not "
Farewell"!
A little while and all His saints shall dwell
In hallowed union indivisible:
Goodnight!
Sarah Doudney
And with this comforting and hopeful thought, I closed the Book and drifted off to sleep.
~ The Two Dreams ~
That night, as I lay on my bed, a dream came to me. In it, my Uncle Craig sat on the deck of the Seahawk pleasantly sipping tea and munching biscuits. All the while, blissfully unaware of the swirling, twisting cataract that the Seahawk was soon to be plunged headlong into. The situation, being such an unlikely one, might have been a humorous sight for a young lad, had not it been so grave.
I stood on the shore frantically waving my arms and shouting to uncle. The warnings however, went unnoticed in the din of the raging torrent. Just as the ship was fixed to plummet into the churning abyss I awoke with a great start. I sat bolt upright in bed and was in a great sweat.
"What strange thoughts trouble me tonight"! I Thought. " It must be that I'm overly anxious about me Uncle. But, I'm sure that the old seaman can manage for himself". " I'd best lie me down and get some rest, and not be fretting about dreams and such".
I laid myself down again, but no sooner falling into slumber than once again a striking dream came to me. This time Father appeared just from the waist up and above the hearth. He told me in very sombre tones that my uncle was in grave danger. " Thomas, ye must find your Uncle and help him". Said my father. "How can I find me uncle"? I quarried. " I be not accustomed t' the sea, and I do na' av' even the money for a brooding hen, much less for the crew of a good ship"! My father then held up an old tattered map clenched in his hand and spoke this conundrum.
" Take this map and study it well,
for it, a secret holds.
You'll find the way to set thy sail ;
bound up within its folds".
My father slowly faded from sight and the dream was finished. When I awoke the next morning I was fretful about the two dreams and wondered about the meaning of them, but I feared to tell the matter lest folks think me beside myself.
A fortnight past and I, having chosen to dismiss the matter rather than face it, had all but forgotten the dreams. Then, early one evening whilst I was about my studies a knock sounded at the door. It was in fact more of a forceful pounding than a knock and had a sense of urgency about the sound of it. I hurried to the heavy wooden door and cried,
" What desire ye, good pilgrim"?
The man at the door answered, "I be no pilgrim, but thine own good acquaintance, dear Thomas"!
Recognising the voice, I opened the door and there stood Smolett quite out of breath and looking rather pale.
"Thomas, me lad," He said. "I've just got word that there's been trouble and thy uncle and his crew have fallen pitiful prey to the wicked buccaneers that haunt these woebegone oceans".
I felt weak and sick at the news as I sat down heavily in my chair. I knew now that someone must be told of the dreams.
"Good Smollett, come and sit, for I have a most strange tale to tell thee now and ye must hear it". I said.
After the whole matter was told to Smollett, the old sailor sat back in wonderment.
"But, why Thomas, did ye not tell the matter before now"? Questioned Smollett.
"I scarce expected anyone would believe me and I feared e'er ye deem me mad"! I explained.
Smollett looked at me with the most pitiful look and replied.
"Many a thing there be in this glacial world that I deem to be madness, young Thomas, but a lad's simple faith to believe the unseeable be not one of those things. Now where is that map that thy blessed father spoke of"?
As quick as a hare I ran for my uncle's map (I knew where he kept his charts) and hastily spread it out on the table to study. Smollett stroked his greying whiskers and quoted thoughtfully to himself. "
'Take this map and study it well,
For it, a secret holds.
You'll find the way to set thy sail;
Bound up within its folds.'
Now what do ya' suppose tha' ca' mean, 'Within its folds'"? Then Smollett exclaimed incredulously. "Thomas, look at this! The folds of the map cross perfectly at this wee island here between the Straight of Gibralter, and the Azores in what place thy uncle was sailing when he was last heard of"!
"Oh Smollett"! I exclaimed. "Do ya' suppose that's where Uncle Joseph could be"?
Then excitement changed to despair.
"But, even if he indeed be there, we have no ship, nor do we have a captain nor crew to sail it if we had one"!
Smollett took me by both shoulders and looking squarely in my eyes, said,
" We dunna' 'ave much choice other than to follow thy dream if we 'ave any will at all to find thy uncle".
Then he looked almost mischievous as he continued, "And ya' seem to 'ave forgotten, me young blade, that Edward Smollett was once the most seafaring swabbie ever to sail the high seas".
And I thought that perhaps at that moment I had never seen anything so splendid as Smollett's toothless smile.
"Now Thomas, be a kind lad and make us some victuals. And fix me a hot toddy and a comfortable bed for the night, for me old bones ache from age and cold. And on the morrow we shall see if the Good Lord will look kindly upon our endeavour to seek out thy uncle".
Frances Lox
Weeks past and I heard not a word from Smollett, howbeit I prayed for my uncle and Smollett's safety at every thought of them.
I know dear Ms Lox's heart went out to me when she thought of my being orphaned not only once, but also twice now it seemed. She wanted to pay her visits more often, but she had her own five children to care for and all the work of the house to do, for as I mentioned beforehand she was a widow woman. Her eldest daughter Frances being fifteen years of age now was a very great help to her mother. Frances was a lovely young maiden with long, dark flowing hair and piercing blue eyes. When she laughed her bright eyes sparkled like moonlight on the water. Her inner strength helped keep poor Ms Lox through many a hard time. However, being of Irish decent, she was known to flare at times. A fault that her mother told her was unbecoming of a lady.
In the days to follow Ms Lox was busy making cheese and could not leave the farm, and so sent Frances to bring me some freshly baked cakes and a wedge of red cheddar.
"Take this to Thomas," Said Ms Lox, wiping her hands on her apron. "And give the boy comfort concerning his uncle".
When Frances came to the front door with her bundle of provisions I was just finishing to chop wood in the back of the cottage.
"Good day"! Called Frances.
She stood on her tiptoes peering leerily into the front window.
"Is anyone home"? She called.
Turning the corner to the front porch and to the back of the young girl, I called.
"Hello. How could I help thee, good friend"?
It gave Frances such a start that she let out with a shriek and dropped her basket spilling the cheese and cakes on the ground. Frances' blue eyes flashed as she chided me.
"What on earth do ya' think you'd be doing, scaring a girl nearly t' death like that"!
My face flushed red with embarrassment.
"I'm truly sorry miss". Said I apologetically. "I dinna' mean to give thee such a fright".
Frances continued. "Now look what you've made me to do. I've spilled all the cakes and the cheese on the ground and soiled them".
"Oh, it's all right". "Truly it is". I assured her as I helped gather the cakes and cheese and placed them into the basket.
"I'm right grateful for them. And besides, I've had worse ya' know. Ya' should taste me uncle's cookin'. It makes those cakes, soiled as they may be, look like the Manna from Heaven".
This made Frances laugh.
"I'm sorry". Apologised Frances. Mother sent me to comfort thee and I'm afraid that I've not done so".
"To the contrary". I said. "I din'na know thy mother had so fetching a daughter as thyself".
This time it was Frances who blushed.
"WellEE'd really better be on my way home". Said Frances trying to hide her embarrassment. "My mother is very busy and needs my help".
Realising that I had made her uneasy I quickly quarried,
"Will you come again? IE, 'Thi nk, Thomas, think!' I said to myself".
" I have extra fresh eggs that I'd like to give thy mother. Can you come to take them to her for me? She'd never accept them from me own hand, you know".
It seemed that Frances was rather fond of me, but was not accustomed to the attention.
"I'll ask mum if she'll permit me to come again this week. Until then, Fare-thee-well, Thomas Craig". She said.
As she was leaving the gate I called to her. "Thy name! May I ask thy name!"?
"Frances"! She called as she ran off. "My name is Frances"!
From that time I felt different. It was a strange sort of feelingEike that of a tingling in my stomach. I didn't quite know how to explain it, but I knew that it had something to do with Frances Lox.
" She's indeed a fetching lass". I thought. " And to imagine that she be the very daughter of Ms Lox! A strange chance indeed"!
The Search Begins
After some days, Smollett returned with favourable news. He had found a ship with a crew that had agreed to search for Captain Craig. They had also agreed to be paid upon their return. The juggle was that Smollett had not informed the crew that they would be setting their sails by the leading of a dead man and the dreams of a sixteen-year-old lad, and that if the Captain was not found, there would be no money to pay them with at all. But Smollett and I were undaunted in our faith and determination. And now with a crew and a ship in our possession our spirits were encouraged.
"Thomas, me lad". Said Edward. " I'd be pleased if you'd be the first mate of the good ship 'Albatross'".
"Aye, aye captain"! When do we set sail"? I responded enthusiastically giving a snappy salute.
"We'll need provisions for the trip and a little time to get acquainted with the crew". Replied Smollett.
I could see that Smollett was an experienced mariner from whom much could be learned. Going to sea had long been my passionEut the burden of the great responsibility Smollett and I were commencing to undertake lay heavy on my young heart, for so much was at stake.
The following morning Smollett escorted me to the docks to present his treasured ship, the "Albatross". She was not what I had expected. For the ship was small and in dire need of repair, (Which Smollett insisted was "Of little importance and only on the surface".)
"Underneath this rough exterior that ya' see here young Thomas is a fine and beautiful lady that will, with the help of the Lord and thy father, lead us to thy Uncle"! Declared Smollett confidently.
The ship was old and barnacle-encrusted and the quarters were cramped and inadequate. It was from a local merchant that Smollett had acquired the use of it. She had been used for transporting coal and was covered inside and out with black, powdery coal dust. After a fortnight of labour the two of us and the crew managed to ready her for the sea. And now, with all the needed provisions aboard and a good wind to speed us along, the Albatross was finally ready to set her sails for the Mediterranean.
It was my dream finally come true to go to sea, and as the days past, I grew more accustomed to the rocking and swaying of the ship. The sea was favourable for the small bark as it made its way from Great Britain to Portugal. Following the coast made for easeful navigation. Smollett taught me the use of the sextant, the compass and other mariner's tools used to keep the ship on course. I learned to measure the speed of the ship by throwing the weighted end of a long rope, knotted at intervals, into the sea from the stern of the moving ship and counting the knots that slipped through my hand in a given length of time. I learned of the ocean's currents and the wind that constantly battled to drive us from our course. My confidence grew as I learned the secrets of the sea and now I was sure it wouldn't be long until we reached the blue Mediterranean. I grew anxious as I thought of the dim prospect of ever finding my uncle. Even if we did find Capt. Craig, what then? Such thoughts plagued me, but I kept reminding myself that it was the Lord that had sent my father to me in the dream and that we were simply obeying the leading of the Spirit. Yet, the very idea warred against my carnal reasoning so absolutely that I could only rest in the promises I had received. The circumstances were so grave that I had grown to depend more than ever on my time alone to hear the still small voice of the Lord and to trust that all was well in the Lord's hands.
That night, as if from nowhere, a fierce wind began to rise from the west and our tiny vessel was tossed about with such a fury that they were driven from our course and could see neither land nor stars nor sun for three days. Navigating only by dead reckoning we were finally able to find the shelter of a small island somewhere off the coast of Portugal. The bay proved to be calm enough to let us weather out the storm, so there we weighed anchor, thankful not to have had to battle the open seas any longer.
Next morning the storm persisted so much in its impetuosity that Smollett suggested to weather out the storm in the bay until sailing could be safely resumed. A decision I knew was reasonable, but my impatience to find my uncle wouldn't allow me to rest as the crew and Smollett did. I donned my rain gear and ambled my way through the downpour to the ships railing. The other ships that were moored to the docks swelled and swayed as the storm continued. As I stood perched on the deck, peering through the grey sheets of relentless rain a crack of lightening drew my attention to something wondrous. I was sure that what my bewildered eyes beheld through the hazy fog and rain was the Seahawk! Was I stir-crazed or was this true! Another crack of light proved the matter. I rubbed my disbelieving eyes gapping through the pouring rain!
"What strange act of God could have so skilfully directed us to this forsaken place? I pondered. "Of a certainty this was the Seahawk, but now, what of my uncle and the crew?"
"Were they aboard"? I Wondered. "Were they even alive"?
Thoughts raced through my mind like a gale. I ran breathlessly to the cabin where Smollett lay on his hammock puffing his pipe. Excitedly I made known the discovery to my gray-haired mate.
"Why, Me lad"! sang Smollett, "Is it possible that we have been led to thy uncle so readily"? "Let us have surer perusal of this matter". Smollett scrambled to the poopdeck, set his spyglass to his eye, and there, to his bewilderment, sat the Seahawk as fit as the day that she ever hoisted her sails for the high seas.
"But just as I supposed". Mussed Smollett. "The deck hands aren't the crew that I know".
"This is indeed the Seahawk, Thomas," Said Smollett gravely. "But as we suspected, foul play has befallen her, for the crew I spied aboard her is not that of thy Uncle. Scallywags they be that now possess the Seahawk, of a truth"!
"Good Lord, Smollett"! I cried, "What shall we do"? "Surely we aren't prepared for this"!
"Take heart Thomas"! Said Smollett as he placed a firm hand on my shoulder. "Tonight ye shall seek thy Lord, and surely He shall tell us our next move".
The plan would have to be a bold one, and a bold one it was.
Under the cover of night I slipped quietly into the murky water and swam silently to the side of the Seahawk with a length of rope about my neck and a sealed pouch of gunpowder clenched between my teeth. Upon reaching the side of my uncle's ship I could hear the pirates drinking and making merry topside. I tossed the rope skilfully over the ship's railing and the grappling hook caught securely to the rail. I began to agilely make my way up the side and onto the deck. Reaching the railing and about to slip over onto the deck, I froze as two drunken robbers stopped above me. I clung helplessly to the rope as the two marauders came within a meter of the cord that held me. If spotted, surely it would be the end of both my uncle and me. They laughed and talked loudly and boastfully of their spoil and how on the morrow they would force Craig and his crew to walk the plank. Anger for these scavengers of the deep swelled in my breast so, that it robbed me of all fear. I was a brave lad, and strong and I thought myself a good match for these two drunken dogs. But I knew that I dare not reveal myself as it was not my life only that was at stake, but that of the others as well. As soon as the two moved along I was over the railing and onto the ship as quick and as quiet as a galley mouse. I knew the ship well since I had boarded her while she was in port at home in Britain, so it was with no trouble that I made my way to the ship's brig. There, as I had suspected, was my uncle and the crew behind bars awaiting their befouled fate. I slid quietly to the cell and whispered my uncle's name. Upon seeing me Uncle Craig whooped aloud.
"Thomas"! "Is it thee, or am I dreaming"? Cried the astounded old man.
"It's me, dear Uncle and we have a plan to free thee and the crew"!
"How in God's name did ye find us here in this God forsaken place"? Queried my bewildered uncle.
"We have no time for explanations now Uncle". "Ye shall know in good time. Now listen carefully as I tell thee the plan. Take this gun powder and divide it amongst the crew, then as soon asE
On the morrow Smollett brought our shabby ship to dock and came ashore with me bound and gaged. He held a flintlock to my head and yelled loudly and angrily as he marched me in front of the Seahawk's gangplank.
"The man whose boy this is will surely die for the evil deed he has committed to me and my poor unwitting crew"! Bellowed Smollett.
The morning watchman on the Seahawk levelled his own musket at Smollett's head and sneered, "Be gone madman, before I blast both thee, and the lad to Kingdom Come"!
"This ye would not think to do if ye knew what I know. For this lad has the same dreaded disease that his uncle has both brought on me and thee"! Yelled Smollett.
The watchmen wavered momentarily, but again he snarled "Be gone I say, fool knave, or I'll blast the both of 'ya and feed thy carcasses to the fish"!
Smollett raised my shirt and revealed the rosy red sores on my trunk and limbs. Slowly the watchman's countenance changed from a belligerent sneer to one of terror. Slowly he lowered his musket stammering to himself horrified, "It's the plague"! His voice grew frantic. "The plague"! "And curse for curse has God seen fit, to plague us with this defilement"!
Bestirred by the commotion, McGuire and Bartlett clamoured to the watchman's deck to know the cause of the excitement.
"What be the cause of this trouble, man? Have ye turned a raving lunatic"? Bawled McGuire.
"A raving lunatic, indeed! For the men to whom we meant evil, have brought the same on us all, for they carry Plague of Death!"!
"By the god's, it's trickery"! Bellowed Briggins. "The Captain and his crew have shown no signs of the plague"! "Go below now, and bring Craig for the crew to see, lest we 'ave mutiny aboard this wretched galley ship".
Two rough buccaneers clamoured below and roughly ordered the captain to his feet. Straining to see in the dim light, the second man brought a lantern and held it to the bars. Ghastly pale grew the faces of the two, for the ruby cankers bore the truth: The plague was on board.
Topside the crew awaited the news. But, the returning men failed to produce the captain and bore terror in their eyes. "The plague"! They cried. "It's the plague of death"! "God help us all"! Insurrection spread like an epidemic. The fearful crew deserted and abandoned ship. In the midst of the commotion Smollett and I acted quickly, taking advantage of the confusion. I took the flintlock below and blasted the cell lock open and freed my uncle and the crew while Smollett gave the signal for his men to board the Seahawk. We quickly recaptured the ship, and the gold as well as the cut-throats that had devised so much evil against the Captain and his crew.
There was no need for us to take the matter of punishing these men into our own hands. We put them below and returned home and there they were given over to the law. We received a hero's welcome on our arrival, but for me there was only one face that I looked for; That was the face of Francis Lox, whom I found and have since made my bonny wife. Smollett was given the position of First Mate on the Captain's crew and I had proven myself a sailor. I always loved the sea, but with a good reward from my uncle and the hand of Francis Lox I returned to buy the family's farm back from the Viscount where we raised a family of our own.
As it turned out, Uncle Joseph was the miser that folks thought him to be. But, a bold change of heart came over the old man after the aforetold episode so that one would not know they were meeting the same person, had he not the same features,( For his heart had changed). He gave of his wealth to the widows and orphans, to the poor and needy so that he became known far and wide for his charitableness and goodness. Ms Lox was well able to care for her little ones after Uncle presented her with a bag of gold sovereigns. And this story was passed on from the knee to all the young babes of the land far and wide.
Oh, and I suppose you'd be wondering how we produced the cankers that looked so much like the plague. Well, with the gunpowder I carried in that bag that night I boarded the Seahawk, each man of uncle's crew placed a small quantity on his skin, grit his teeth and lit it off. We were all an amusing sight for the next week or soEand this amazing adventure added yet one more tale to good Smollet's list.
And with this bonny ending I'd add a moral:
There is no limit to what one can do with a positive outlook, and faith and trust in our Heavenly Father.
And, here, our story, so dreadful,
Has come to an happy end,
The Seahawk was saved,
By the Good and the brave;
By the heroes of God and of men
Good Smollett received a good bounty,
And the crew was the talk of the town.
And Thomas, the lad,
Could never have had
A better reward, and a crown.
For the uncle and he were united,
And the Seahawk lay safe at the docks,
He made a new life,
And he won a good wife
When he won the fair Francis Lox.
And when they were old and were taken,
To meet in the great By and By.
The sadness of yore,
Was present no more,
In a land where we nevermore die.
For his father and mother did greet him
When he came to that Heavenly Shore
It was then that he knew
That God's promise is true
As we meet with our loved ones once more
Did you like this story? How about sending an email to my buddy, Roger Fruchey and telling him so! Roger is interested in selling this story to a publisher.