Dutch the Diver: or, A Man's Mistake

“Is that Captain Studwick?” said a woman’s voice.

“Yes, and what then?” said the captain. “Now, it won’t do. The trick’s too clear. How many have you in that boat?”

“No one but myself,” replied the same voice. “Pray, pray let me come on board.”

“Who are you, and what do you want?” exclaimed the captain. “Quick! I’ve no time to waste.”

“Let her come on board,” cried Mr Parkley, hastily. “Don’t you know her?” he whispered; “it’s Mrs Pugh.” Then leaning over the side – “Hester, my child, is that you?”

“Yes,” was the hoarse reply. “Mr Parkley, for Heaven’s sake, take me on board.”

“There, I told you so,” exclaimed Mr Parkley; “let down the steps.”

“I tell you it’s some ruse of that cursed Cuban,” cried the captain, angrily. “If you give way we shall be stopped again. Keep that boat off below there.”

“No, no!” cried Mr Parkley. “Stop. Studwick, I take the responsibility on myself. Oakum, lower the steps, and throw that rope.”

“Ay, ay, sir,” said the old sailor. “Am I to do it?” he continued to the captain.

“Yes, if he wishes it,” was the testy reply; and then in a low voice he said to the mate, “Slip the hawser, and haul up the jib and staysail. I’m going to the wheel.”

His orders were rapidly executed, and the long, graceful vessel began almost imperceptibly to move through the water.

“If it is any trick,” said the captain, as he went aft to the man he had stationed at the wheel, “it shall take place at sea. What’s that?”

He turned back instantly, for at that moment what sounded like a slight scuffle was heard by the gangway he had left.

Story 1-Chapter XI.

In Bessy’s Cabin

So determined was Captain Studwick not to be lightly trifled with that a pistol was in his hand as he ran back to the side, but his alarm was unnecessary, for the scuffling noise was caused merely by Mr Parkley catching their visitor as she tottered and nearly fell on the deck.

“Let me see my husband, Mr Parkley,” she moaned, “for pity’s sake let me see my husband. If I saw him and spoke to him, he would listen to me.”

“But, my dear child,” began Mr Parkley.

“I shall die if I do not see him,” she moaned again. “I have been so ill – I have suffered so much, and this evening the news came that he was going away – away without seeing me. Oh, God, what have I done that I should suffer so!”

“My dear child – my dear Mrs Pugh.”

“I must see him – pray, pray take me to him,” she sobbed, “it is more than I can – more than I can bear.”

Mr Parkley caught her again just in time, for she swooned away, and laying her upon the deck he tried hard to restore her. Then looking up he became aware that the lights of the town were fast receding.

“Why, Studwick,” he exclaimed, “the schooner’s moving.”

“Yes,” said the captain.

“But the boat this poor girl came off in?”

“Ashore by this time.”

“But we can’t take her. Hang it, man, we cannot have domestic differences on board. She must go back.”

“We must now land her at Plymouth,” said the captain. “Send for my Bessy, man, she will soon bring her to. How foolish of the little woman to come aboard.”

“Shall I fetch the young lady, sir?” said Sam Oakum gruffly, as he stood with a look of disgust upon his face.

“Yes, for goodness’ sake, do. Quick!” exclaimed Mr Parkley, whose efforts to restore animation were all in vain.

Just as Sam went aft, though, Mrs Pugh began to revive, stared wildly about, and sitting up saw the captain bending over her.

“Captain Studwick,” she cried, catching his hand and drawing herself upon her knees to cling to him, “don’t send me back – don’t send me away. Let me go too. I could not bear to part from my husband like this. He is angry with me,” she whispered, “I cannot tell you why, but he has not spoken to me for days, and I have been so – so ill.”

“Yes, yes, you shall see him, my dear, but stand up. You must not make a scene.”

“Oh no,” she exclaimed, rising hastily, “I will do anything you say, only let me see him and explain. Let me go with, you. If I could talk to him he would believe me, and all would be well again. If not,” she said with a hysterical cry, “I shall go mad – I shall go mad.”

“Come, let me take you below,” said the captain, for she was clinging tightly to his arm.

“Yes, yes,” whispered the poor trembling woman. “I could not help that; I am trying so hard to be calm, but my poor breast is so care-laden that a cry would escape. Let me go with you, Captain Studwick. I will be so quiet – so careful.”

“It is impossible, my dear child,” he said in a husky voice, for her agony affected him.

“No, no, don’t say that; I will help Bessy nurse your poor son. She loves me, and believes in me, and I will give no trouble. If you set me ashore I shall die of grief. I cannot live to be separated from my husband – for him to leave me like this.”

“Well, well, well, I’ll see what I can do,” said the captain in the quieting way that one would speak to a child; but she peered instantly into his face.

“You are deceiving me,” she cried. “You are trying to calm me with promises, and you mean to set me ashore. Mr Parkley,” she wailed, turning to him, “you know me, and believe in me: you know the cause of this trouble. Take me to my dear husband, and help me to drive away this horrible belief of his, or I shall die.”

“My dear child – my dear child,” he said, drawing her to him, “I will try all I can.”

“But you will set me ashore again when I strove so hard to get to him. I was so ill in bed, and he has not been near me. I found out that you were taking Dutch from me, and I could not stay. Let me see him – oh, let me see him!”

“You shall, my dear, as soon as you are calm.”

“But he is here,” she whispered, not daring to raise her voice lest, in her excited state, it should get the mastery over her, and she should burst forth in hysterical wails.

“Yes, my child, he is here. He is asleep below.”

“Poor Dutch!” she whispered to herself; and then with a faint, weary smile she laid her hands in those of her old friend. “There, you can see how calm and patient I will be,” she continued. “No one shall suspect any trouble. I will be so quiet and patient, and if he will not listen to me, I will not complain, so long as I am near him – only wait till God changes his heart towards me.”

“There, then, you shall stay – till we get to Plymouth,” exclaimed Mr Parkley, hastily passing his hand across his eyes. “Don’t let the men see that anything’s the matter, my dear.”

“No: oh, no,” she replied. “I’m quite calm now. Ah, here’s Miss Studwick.”

“You here, Mrs Pugh!” exclaimed the captain’s daughter, who believed that she was coming to her father.