The Madman and the Pirate | Page 4

departure.
"Marie," said Zeppa that night as they, with their boy, sat down to rest
after the labours of the day, "I expect to be away about three weeks.
With anything of a wind the schooner will land us on Otava in two or
three days. Business won't detain me long, and a large canoe, well
manned, will bring Orlando and me back to you in a week or so. It is
the first time I shall have left you for so long since our wedding. You
won't be anxious, little woman?"
"I would not be anxious if I were sure you went with good people,"
returned Marie, with a slightly troubled look; "but are you sure of the
captain?"
"I am sure of nobody except you, Marie," returned her husband, with a
smile that contained a dash of amusement in it.
"And me, father," said Orlando, assuming an injured look.
"Well, Orley, I can't say that I am quite sure of you, you rascal,"
returned his father playfully. "That spice of mischief in your
composition shakes me at times. However, we will leave that question
to another time. Meanwhile, what makes you doubt the captain,
Marie?"
"Ebony seems to doubt him; and I have great faith in Ebony's
judgment."
"So have I; but he is not infallible. We should never get on in life if we

gave way to groundless fears, dear wife. Besides, have we not the
promise, 'Lo, I am with you alway?'"
On the following afternoon a fresh breeze sprang up and the
piratical-looking schooner, bowing gracefully before it, sailed across
the now ruffled lagoon and stood out to sea, while Marie with the
missionary and his wife, and a crowd of natives, stood at the end of the
coral wharf, waving farewell to Zeppa and his son as long as their
figures could be distinguished. After that, they continued to gaze at the
diminishing vessel until it melted like a little speck at the meeting-place
of sea and sky.
That night an event which had been long pending was precipitated.
Captain Daniel had given way to his fierce temper so often during the
voyage, and had behaved with such cruel tyranny to his crew, that they
had resolved to stand it no longer. His harsh conduct to the mate, in
particular, who was a favourite with the men, had fostered the spirit of
indignation, and the mate himself, being a man of no fixed principles,
although good-natured enough when not roused, had at last determined
to side with the men. He was a man of fierce passions, and had been
roused by his superior's tyranny and insolence to almost uncontrollable
fury; but he had not at that time been guilty of absolute
insubordination.
When the vessel's course had been laid that night--which chanced to be
a Friday, as some of the crew afterwards remembered--and the cabin
lamp had been lighted, the captain sent for the mate, who saw by his
looks that a storm was brewing.
"What did you mean, sir," began the captain at once, "by that insolent
reply you made to me on shore yesterday?"
The young man might have answered temperately if they had been
alone, but Zeppa was lying on a locker reading, and his son was also
present, and Rosco knew that the captain meant to put him to shame
before them. His spirit fired.

"Scoundrel!" he cried, "the measure of your iniquity is filled. You shall
no longer command this schooner--"
Thus far he got when the captain, livid with rage, sprang up to rush at
him. Zeppa also leaped up to aid in putting down what he clearly
perceived was premeditated mutiny, but the mate sprang out of the
cabin, and, shutting the door with a bang, locked it. At the same instant
the man at the wheel--knowing what had occurred--closed and fastened
the cabin sky-light. The captain threw himself several times with all his
weight against the door, but it opened inwards and could not be forced.
There were two square windows in the stern of the schooner, one of
which was open. Orlando perceived this, sprang up, clambered through
it, gained the deck unperceived, and, running down the companion stair,
past all the men, rushed against the cabin door, and burst it open.
Zeppa was endeavouring at the moment to wrench off the lock and was
nearly thrown back. Recovering, he struck fiercely out at those who
thronged the dark passage.
"Oh! father," groaned Orlando, as he fell before the blow.
With a terrible cry of consternation Zeppa stooped to pick up his child.
He was felled with a handspike as he did so; the crew then rushed into
the cabin and the captain was overpowered and bound.
"Overboard wi' them all!" shouted one of the men.
There