Chapter 23

THE CARIBBEE SAILS FOR AUSTRALIA.

If Mrs. Dock Vincent had not been a person of higher moral purposes than her husband, sad indeed would have been the lot of the two children that slept in the captain's state-room on board of the Caribbee. As is often the case, she knew less of her husband's moral obliquity than the world at large, though even she knew enough to believe that he was not what he should be. People did not tell her of Dock's wicked deeds, and he complained bitterly to her of the hard treatment which the world bestowed upon him. That good men frowned at him and spurned him he unjustly attributed to their hypocrisy and self-esteem, rather than to his own evil deeds and evil intentions.

Dock had spent a term in the state prison, and his character was damaged, if not ruined. Men would not trust him, and the reprobate chafed under the public censure. To his wife and his friends he made himself appear like a deeply injured person, like a martyr--in what good cause he could not say. He was going to Australia to begin life anew, to carve out his fortune in a strange land, where he was not known. Mrs. Vincent was willing to leave her native land, and make a new home in a distant country for this purpose, for the motive seemed to be a laudable one.

She had no knowledge, guilty or innocent, of the abduction of Bessie, until after the Caribbee had sailed; but she felt herself powerless to undo the mischief. If her husband had been on board, she would not have dared to oppose him, he was so violent and savage when she interfered with his plans. She could at least protect the poor girl from insult and injury, and she determined to do this at all hazards. It was evident to her that the Caribbee would not proceed immediately to her destination without her owner and captain. It was probably the intention of Captain Gauley to put into some port before she started on her long voyage, when Dock would join her.

Mrs. Vincent pitied Bessie Watson, and almost hated her husband when she realized of what infamy he was capable. She comforted the poor girl as well as she was able, and promised to be her friend under all circumstances. She conducted her to an unoccupied state-room, which had doubtless been reserved for her use, and spent half the night with her; for Bessie trembled at the thought of being alone on board of the vessel of her great enemy.

Bessie was truly grateful to Mrs. Vincent, who, though rough and rude in her manners, was kind at heart; and her presence was a great comfort. The poor girl, torn thus suddenly from her friends, wept long and bitterly at her sad fate; but at last she fell asleep, committing herself to the care of the heavenly Father, and relying upon him for the succor which he alone could give. No one disturbed her; and Mrs. Vincent watched over her, as a child, till she was fast asleep.

When she awoke, late in the morning, she heard the voices of children in the cabin, and it was hard to realize that she was the victim of Dock Vincent's villany. She was kindly greeted by Mrs. Vincent, and the children stared at her as though she had come up from the depths of the ocean. She soon made friends with the boy of eight and the girl of ten, who were included in the family of her persecutor. After breakfast she went on deck with them, and learned that the vessel was off Cape Cod. Captain Gauley was very civil to her; but she did not allude to the events of the previous evening. He was a bad man, and she could hardly help shuddering in his presence.

All day long she played with the children, and short as she made the hours to them, they were very long to her. She was so gentle, and kind, and unselfish, even in her woe, that the little ones loved her, and would hardly leave her for a moment. She was certainly comforted by their presence, and her endeavors to assure them lightened the moments of the long day. The kindness of Mrs. Vincent did much to assure her; she was satisfied that nothing worse than a long separation from her parents was likely to happen to her. Feeling that it was useless to repine at her condition, or to weep over what she could not avoid, she resolved to make the best of it. There was no real hardship in her situation, and the circumstances were certainly more agreeable than when she had before been an involuntary passenger in Dock's vessel. The absence of the villain himself was perhaps her greatest consolation; but the presence of Mrs. Vincent and the children was a real comfort.

In the evening Bessie and Dock's wife talked the matter over again in her state-room. Mrs. Vincent roundly and unequivocally condemned the conduct of her husband. She had discovered that the Caribbee was now headed to the west, and it was plain to her that she was not yet on her way to Australia. Dock had told her he was going to New York, and it was possible that he intended to join them there. She told Bessie that she might be able to leave the vessel when she reached her destined port. The poor girl became more reconciled to her situation only because it was no worse, rather than because it was not bad enough. She slept well that night.

The next day she played with the children, read to them, and dressed the girl's doll in the latest fashion. In the evening, after Bessie had retired, the Caribbee ran by Sandy Hook, and made a harbor near Amboy, where she came to anchor. She was moored a mile from the shore, and no other vessel was near her. Captain Gauley had carried out the plans of Dock to the letter. He had been a steamboat pilot in these waters, and was quite familiar with the navigation. Dock had made his acquaintance while he was acting as mate of a boat, and the mate and the pilot were congenial spirits.

When Bessie went on deck with the children in the morning, Captain Gauley told her, if she wished to write to her father, her letter should be forwarded, as he was going on shore during the forenoon. She was glad to assure her parents of her safety, and she wrote a long letter, describing her capture and her situation on board of the Caribbee. She stated the facts as they were. Dock's agent was writing at the same time in the cabin; and when she was about to fold her sheet, he wished to see it. He read it through, tore off the heading, "Near New York," and the date, and then suggested that she had better ask her father to pay the money required for her release.

"My father must do as he thinks best about that," replied Bessie, decidedly.

"You don't understand your situation, I see," added the captain. "It is impossible for you to escape from the vessel, and if your father does not pay the money, you will go to Australia with us."

"My father will do what is best," repeated Bessie.

"Very well," added Captain Gauley, sourly. "If your father is not wiser than you are, you may spend the rest of your days in Australia."

Bessie made no reply, but folded and directed her letter. It was plain now that Dock was to levy his contribution on Mr. Watson before he came on board. This out-of-the-way place had been selected, where no one would be likely to hear of her, for the vessel to remain until Dock could obtain his money. Captain Gauley went off in a boat, with one man, leaving the schooner in charge of Mat Mogmore. He did not return till night; but Bessie, though she considered various plans to escape from the vessel, was satisfied that nothing could be done, for Mat watched her all the time. Her only hope was, that she might induce one of the sailors to assist her by promising him a large sum of money; but her vigilant guardian would not permit her to speak to any man on board. If one of the seamen came aft, he was ordered forward; and Bessie's hope faded away.

The Caribbee remained for ten days in the vicinity of Sandy Hook, changing her anchorage several times. Every day, either Mat Mogmore or Captain Gauley went on shore, evidently expecting to see Dock, or to hear from him. Bessie watched in vain for an opportunity to make a friend of one of the sailors, or to hail a passing boat; but so carefully was she guarded, that all hope in this direction was cut off. She began to wish that her father would pay the money, for this seemed to be her only chance of escape. Dock's non-appearance indicated that his little plan was not working as well as he had expected, and Mrs. Vincent and Bessie saw that Captain Gauley and Mat were becoming very anxious.

On the tenth day after the arrival of the Caribbee, Mat Mogmore, who had been on shore, returned with a letter, directed, in a strange hand, to Captain Gauley. He opened it in the cabin. It contained but a few lines, which he read and then hastened upon deck, leaving the letter on the table. The rattling of ropes and the flapping of sails were immediately heard; and it was plain to Bessie that the vessel was getting under way.

"I wonder what is to be done now," said Mrs. Vincent, coming out of her state-room.

"I don't know. Captain Gauley read the letter which lies on the table, and then hurried on deck," replied Bessie.

"A letter!" exclaimed Mrs. Vincent, who was continually on the lookout for news; for she was hardly less a prisoner than Bessie.

She took it from the table, and without hesitation opened it.

"It is from my husband," said she, glancing at the signature. "Things are going wrong with me, and you will sail for Australia without me," she read, "the moment you get this letter. Keep things as before, and _do not let any one leave the vessel_. If you don't do this, my only chance is lost. Be careful, for they are after you. I shall get the money, and go to Australia by steamer from England, and shall probably be there before you."

"Then we are actually starting for Australia!" exclaimed Bessie, with a deep sigh.

"I suppose so."

Bessie went into her state-room and wept bitterly, as all hope deserted her. She cried, and she prayed, and then endeavored to reconcile herself anew to her situation. The sails were hoisted, and the Caribbee was standing out to sea.

Captain Gauley was at the helm, and Mat Mogmore was at his side, talking with him about the prospect.

"If he wrote a letter at all, he ought to have told us all about it," said Mat, disappointed at the meagreness of the news from Dock.

"He says things are going against him."

"And he says they are after us; but he don't say who, nor what," added Mat. "I would like to know what has gone wrong, and who is after us."

"Do you see that schooner on the weather bow?" said Captain Gauley, pointing to a trim-looking craft. "She has an eye on us, and we must give her a wide berth. She came about just now, and is running across our fore-foot."

"That's the yacht, as true as I live!" exclaimed Mat, when he discovered her.

"What yacht?"

"The Starry Flag!"

She had been standing off and on between Sandy Hook and Coney Island for twenty-four hours, on the lookout for the Caribbee.