Swords From the Sea (39 page)

My tongue burned in my throat, and I nearly tore my hair to think up some scheme. He stood with one foot on the log at the edge of the jetty and glanced at me inquiringly. How could I take an admiral by the arm and lead him to a tavern to talk? How could I make signs before the throng that his life was in danger?

John Paul spoke to the cavalier, who turned to me indifferently.

"Cossack," he said in bad Russian, "his Excellency is pleased to praise you and ask if you have a request to make. He says that he will grant it."

"I would go with him on the ship." I bowed to the girdle. "If it pleases your Honor."

The barge went out to a high ship with two rows of cannon and we climbed up the ladder to the deck, I carrying John Paul's valise, and swaggering a bit, for the deck was cluttered with groups of men who stared at us and whispered. An under-officer who wore a rapier stood by the ladder with a squad of sailors, also armed, and saluted. After that he went away quickly with his men and left the American alone. John Paul glanced up at a mast where Alexiano's flag hung idly, there being no wind. Then he gave an order to the bargemen and they made fast to the foot of the ladder a light saick, a skiff having one pair of oars, that we had towed behind us from the jetty. After this they rowed away in the barge and John Paul walked slowly to the afterdeck.

It needed no sailor to tell me that his reception was lacking in respect; Alexiano, who stood on the afterdeck, should have greeted him and his flag should have been hoisted instead of the Greek's. As John Paul climbed the steps at the rump of the ship, Alexiano turned his back and said something amusing to a man who leaned on a small cannon. This man, in gray and gold, was the prince, Nassau, and he had promised to flay me alive if John Paul reached Kherson.

Nassau picked up in his fingers a little round piece of glass and looked at me, then at the American, and laughed softly at the jest Alexiano had made. John Paul halted a few paces from the pair, his shoulders squared.

Calling to him the under-officer with the rapier, he drew a letter from his coat and passed it to the Russian, who bowed and gave it to Nassau. The prince bowed and handed it back without reading it. Alexiano, a bull of a man with a fine curly beard, watched Nassau as a dog watches its master. And every man of the crew watched the three on the afterdeck. Still John Paul made pretense that nothing out of the usual was happening. He talked with Nassau in French, and the prince, who had tried to buy the American's death, was most polite. That is the way of the Muscovites and the Prussian nobles.

But Nassau found time to speak aside with the under-officer, who presently whispered to a Greek with a handkerchief bound over his hair. This chap, who had some rank on the ship, called to him two others who advanced on me with scowls.

"Hai, dog of a Cossack," one grunted, "your saick waits for you. Get off the deck or we will pitch you overside!"

I grinned at him, seeing that he meant to provoke a fight, and his mate jostled me. When I reached for my sword the two drew knives and opened their mouths to shout. Instead, the under-officer on the afterdeck shouted-

"Form in ranks for inspection!"

John Paul had been watching us, and he it was who gave the order in the first place. Nassau shrugged indifferently, though Alexiano grew red with rage and kept muttering under his breath. He grew angrier when it became clear that the men did not know how to form ranks. Like cows, they trampled here and there, looking all around, until the officers who came on deck began to curse.

Finally they were drawn up in strange fashion: the Greeks crowded in with the Greeks and the Syrians and -- knows what else, besides scores of Moskya fishermen. On the other side of the ship under a Russian officer about a hundred of the true faith drew up, among them quite a few Cossacks, and I took stand behind them, up against the rampart of the ship. John Paul, accompanied by the under-officer, who translated his orders and answered his questions, went down the front of each rank, looking every man in the face. Nor did he show any disapproval.

From the men he turned to the deck, where cannonballs were in heaps and ropes in a fine tangle. Everything he pulled toward him, looking at it closely, the sails and the cannon especially. The mob on the deck saw that he knew what he was about, and fell to watching him instead of the officers on the rump of the ship, who had their heads together around Alexiano.

It was nearly dark when he ended the formation. Without taking any more notice of Nassau or Alexiano he nodded to me, and the interpreter bade me haul the skiff on deck, and select some Cossack carpenters for work. A half-dozen chaps stepped forward at once and hoisted the saick over the rampart of the Vladimir.

Then Paul Jones had some rags brought and these we wrapped around the middle of the oars as he bade us. A board was cut for a rudder, and a broken pike staff fitted to it for a tiller, the rudder being rigged to the back end of the saick.

When this was done he ordered us to go and get supper, which was being brought up, the men crowding around the pots without order. One of the Cossacks nudged me while I was dipping out the gruel.

"Eh, Ivak, better slip over the side before dark, if you don't want Greek steel between your ribs."

I laughed at him and began to eat.

"It's true," he went on under his breath. "They have marked you down, Uncle."

"And the admiral?" I asked. "What of him?"

"They say he is a foreigner who cannot speak our tongue, and a pirate who would sell us as slaves to the Turks."

"They say lies, little brother. Nassau would glean gold out of you and leave you for the Moslems to slit up."

He looked around fearfully and began to scratch his head, saying that such words would earn me a lashing. Was not Nassau a great officer who kept the Turks away because they feared him? Rumors had been heard that the officers of the Vladimir were in league with Alexiano to refuse to serve under the American. Nassau had said that he was a coward who would not make war, save on merchantmen, and Alexiano said that Nassau had a commission to share the command of the fleet with John Paul.

Now John Paul had been promised sole command, I knew, and it is an evil thing when an army has two leaders. Two oxen hauling a cart go forward swifter than one, but two leaders cannot make plans like one, and the end is disaster.

"Of the two, Nassau is the coward," I made response, judging that a man who would pay to have another slain does not love danger himself, however boldly he may bear himself.

"Then let the American prove himself," the Cossack grunted. "Each is in command at present and how do we know which to obey?"

"Before midnight little brother," I promised, "one or the other will take the leadership! Watch!"

It was safe to prophesy, knowing how little the two loved each other. But I feared for John Paul, who did not know that Nassau had conspired against him, and who could not summon up Alexiano and the Greeks to his aid. Every word he spoke must be translated, and how was he to be sure that his words were not twisted? As long as I was alive Nassau would try by every means to do away with John Paul for fear that the plot against the American would be known.

Why did I not speak out? Nay, who would listen? And it is not by threats and tale bearing that a leader's nature is made clear to all men. The crew of the Vladimir were restless because the Turkish fleet had drawn up to within striking distance, and no orders to make ready for battle had been issued. They grumbled at John Paul because he had made them stand long in ranks, but they became curious when the American, instead of going to the officers' table, ate dinner with the men on deck. Then he ordered a double allowance of spirits issued, when the ship's lanthorns were lighted.

While he sat among us a Cossack began one of our songs, and the American bade us all sing. It was sad, that song of our steppe, and he sat silent, chin on hand, seemingly thinking of nothing at all. Once I thought I saw his eyes glitter with tears, which was no shame in a man far from his own country.

But the men of the Vladimir all saw that John Paul cared nothing for what Alexiano and Nassau might be doing; and we soon perceived that the high officers had come on deck to see what John Paul was doing. Night had fallen and a thin mist hung over the water of the narrow gulf. Out at the mouth of the gulf gleamed the small lights of the Moslem fleet, off one of their forts, where they hemmed us in, since the mouth of the gulf, which was the only way to the sea, was narrow as a cannon shot.

Eh, it was a sad thing that happened on the Vladimir: scores of men ranged against one, who did not understand them. Two plotters against a hero of other wars who did not know how to plot. And yet, no other man was like John Paul. The proof of it was that all eyes on the ship watched him, even when Nassau took to striding up and down the deck near us.

Meanwhile the under-officer-he of the rapier-came and whispered in my ear. "When you are challenged, pretend to be bringing supplies to the enemy. Ask for the countersign. The admiral wishes to learn it. And Christ receive your spirit!" he added under his breath.

"At command," I replied promptly, not wishing him to see that the American's instructions were a perfect riddle to me.

John Paul drew out his watch, looked at it, then at the sky, and the lights of the Turkish frigates. Then he spoke to Nassau, who turned as if a bee had stung him. Long afterward I learned that John Paul had said that they would set out on a reconnoiter of the enemy's fleet!

Nassau, too surprised to be cautious, refused point blank when he learned that John Paul planned to go in among the enemy, but the American responded that neither Nassau nor Alexiano had any knowledge of the enemy's vessels at close hand, and this was necessary if a battle was to be fought.

"What a notion!" exclaimed the prince in Russian. "We can send an officer."

"I am going," said John Paul quietly to the interpreter, "and if Nassau is not afraid he will come, too."

By the light of the yellow lanthorn, Nassau's pocked face grew sallow and he bit his lips. He was trapped, and there was no way out because the American shared the risk he ran. Then his face changed and he said he would go.

In that moment I knew Nassau was a coward, and all the more dangerous because of that. Some plan had come into his head, when he agreed to go. John Paul turned to me.

"Stuppai, Ivak," he said. "Forward!"

How did he know I would understand his meaning? Nay, he could not have known. But God gave me eyes of the mind to see the truth and I lowered the saick with the help of my comrades, climbing down the ladder and taking the oars as soon as it was in the water.

Nassau swore-I could hear him-when he realized what sort of craft was waiting for him. But John Paul stood at the ladder top, and smiled, mockingly. An hour ago the American had been a man of honey; now he was a man of stone. The prince came down the ladder, and plumped down into the stern of the little skiff. John Paul made him climb over me to the prow where the Prussian sat, wedged like a fish between the sides of the boat. Then the admiral took the tiller and I the oars, so that the lights of the Vladimir began to grow smaller. We steered toward the fleet of the Turks, which could not be seen because the light mist hung over the surface of the water-enough to obscure the stars.

The oars made no sound except a little drip, being wrapped with rags where they rubbed on the gunwale. I rowed on, watching the outline of John Paul's head and the glitter of his eyes, until he held up one hand and I raised the oars. He stretched his head to one side and shut his eyes, listening like a horse in the steppe when a wild beast is rustling the grass near at hand.

Presently I, too, heard the rasping of oars, coming up behind us from where the Vladimir lay. The oars were being moved swiftly and, by the catch in his breath, I knew that Nassau had become aware of this other boat that was following us. Perhaps he had been listening for it, so quiet he was.

Motioning to me to row on, John Paul turned the tiller, sending the skiff to one side, out toward the main channel. The men in the boat behind could not hear us and we would have slipped away if Nassau had not called out clearly-

"To the left!"

As he spoke the words, John Paul swung the tiller sharp to the other side. The little skiff dodged like a flying fish, and made a circle until we were speeding in the other direction. Several long strokes I took, then lifted the oars and glided silently. Aye, we could hear the oars of the other boat pulling like mad for the place we had left.

John Paul leaned forward and whispered across my shoulder in French. I do not know what he said, but Nassau did not cry out again. We sat still until the boat from the Vladimir could be heard no longer. T-phew! We were trapped! Because now we heard other oars, coming from the Turk ish side-some patrol boat making its rounds. If we went on we would run into the accursed Moslems; if we turned back, there was the Vladimir's barge in waiting like a tiger.

Nassau must have ordered it to follow us. Perhaps he planned to go from the skiff into the barge and fire a volley at us-claiming afterward that a mistake had been made in the dark; perhaps he would start up a quarrel and throw us out for the fish or the Turks to find. I do not know.

But John Paul sat still, and I crossed myself, breathing a prayer to the Father and the Son. It happened that the boat from the Moslem fleet passed us by, the wash from it rocking our skiff, and went elsewhere, though for a long time I listened to the creak of its twelve pairs of oars and the American did likewise, for he often turned his head and bent down toward the water where the sound was clearest.

We rowed again and now Nassau began to protest in a low voice, without receiving an answer. By and by he stopped because the lights of the enemy's craft showed ahead of us. Still we went on, John Paul turning the tiller this way and that, making the skiff wind in and out among the vessels. They were galleys and gunboats for the most part and there were many of them.

Their masts stood up like a forest, and by the time we had reached the last one inshore the night had grown a little brighter. The mist cleared and the stars shone down on us. I heard Tatars talking together in the waist of the last galley, and someone playing upon a fiddle. They had good eyes those Tatars because presently they hailed us, asking for vodka. Nassau repeated the words to John Paul, who went closer, until the sheer of the stem was nearly over us.