CHAPTER VII.
A DESPERATE PLAN.
But it proved to be only a false alarm. While Nat's heart beat till it shook his frame and he crouched back in the shadows and Captain Nelsen did the same they were not destined to be discovered that time. Whoever had raised the hatch contented himself with peering into the gloomy hold which, fortunately, was so dark that he could see nothing. Presently he slapped the hatch cover to again, and Nat began to breathe more freely.
"Hum dot vos an escapeness of der narrowness," commented the captain. "I dink me vee hadt bedder nodt light up der candle vunce more. Idt might leadt to dere finding us by der inside mit der hold."
Nat agreed with him.
"What did you mean when you spoke of escape just now?" he asked.
The captain sank his voice to a mysterious whisper and explained. As his explanation was somewhat lengthy, we shall not bother the reader by rendering it in the captain's dialect, but shall set it down in plain English as being less tedious.
Captain Nelsen then, after informing Nat of the events leading up to his chartering his schooner to a party of "scientists en route to the Marquesas," proceeded to elucidate how he came to be in the dark hold at such a lucky moment for Nat. Doubtless, because they felt he was entirely at their mercy, the invaders of the schooner allowed him to roam around as he would. In this way it had come about that when the captain pleaded sleepiness he had been allowed to retire to his cabin in the stern of the schooner without arousing suspicion in the mind of Morello.
But Captain Nelsen's cabin possessed a feature which, had Morello been aware of it, would have resulted in the skipper's sleeping quarters being changed. This feature was nothing more or less than a trap-door in the floor. This trap-door had formerly led into a specie room; for at one time the "Nettie Nelsen" had plied in Alaskan waters and not infrequently valuable shipments of gold were made on board her.
The specie room had, however, been long disused, and a door fitted in it which led into the upper hold in which Nat was confined. Captain Nelsen therefore no sooner found himself alone in his cabin than he opened this trap-door, having first pulled up the strip of carpet which covered it. This done he lowered himself into the specie room and thence emerged into the hold.
In doing all this he had, as may be imagined, an object. That object was nothing more or less than a daring plan of escape that had formed itself in his brain. Had he not been skipper and owner of the "Nettie Nelsen" he would never have thought of such a plan, for it hinged upon a forgotten feature in the schooner's construction—namely, an unused port situated in the overhang of her stern, and just beneath the main cabin.
This port—an opening some three feet long by four wide, had been made when the "Nettie Nelsen," among her numerous other employments, had plied in the lumber trade. It formed a convenient place to thrust long boards or planks through direct from the dock alongside which she might be lying, thus saving the labor of loading her holds by derricks. When steamships drove the "Nettie Nelsen" and her fellow sailing vessels out of the coasting lumber trade, the port had been closed. Several coats of paint now lay over it on the outside, but inside it was still possible to remove it and leave a big opening by turning some screws.
The captain had been in the act of investigating the port when he had heard Nat's despairing cry, which had alarmed him almost as much as his exclamation had startled Nat.
"Idt vill be dark in a short time now," confided the captain, as he concluded; "ven it is quiet dark I come down again und open der port."
"And then what?" asked Nat, his heart pounding excitedly.
"Und den ve eider get avay oder ve gedt in der soup vorse dan ever," declared the captain.
"But how? We cannot drop through the port and into the sea," exclaimed Nat. "Have you got life belts or something?"
"Ach," interrupted the captain impatiently, "I haf somdings better yet dan dot alretty. No, by Yupiter, ven ve go, ve go in style. Ve go in a boat."
"In a boat!" echoed Nat. "I must be very dense, captain, but you'll have to explain this thing to me some more."
"Very veil. I explins meinself more explicitly den. Der ship's boadt hangs on davits over the stern. Ven I go py der deck dis evening I yust careless like dangle down a rope over der taffrail—dot is if I gedt it a chance. Den ven ve open der port all ve got to do is to vait our chance undt den reach out for dot rope, swarm up idt und lower der boat. Aber den ve lower ourselves, und by daybreak der schooner be miles avay undt maybe some steamer or oder vessel bick us up. Dot is goodt scheme, yah?"
"It sounds all right, captain, but it fairly bristles with difficulties."
"Mein son," admonished the old seaman softly, "difficulties vos dings made to come over alretty. Und now, as your limbs are rested, I vill tie you up again so dot if any one comes down dey suspect noddings."
It was necessary for the captain to light his candle once more to perform this office. He did it with a sailor's celerity, chattering all the while.
"Now den," he said, when it was done, "I go back py my cabins. Den I votch a chance to drop dot rope over der rail. Now keep up a goodt heart, my poy, for if Got vills it so, ve vill be oudt of dis craft py midnighds."
At these words Nat could have shouted aloud for joy. Wild as the captain's scheme would have appeared to any one in different circumstances, to the boy—in his present desperate straits—it seemed far better than it had looked at first blush. In fact, the more he thought it over, the more inclined Nat was to think that, with a measure of reasonably good luck, they might be able to carry it through.
Some time later Hicks alone came below, and holding up a lantern gave Nat a casual inspection. It was fortunate that it did not enter his lazy mind to make it a more thorough one, or he might have detected that the ropes had been cut and then reknotted. But he was in a hurry to get back to a card game he had been enjoying when Morello had ordered him below, and after bestowing a curse on Nat he left once more.
"I hope nobody else takes a fancy to come below and examine me more thoroughly," thought Nat. "I wonder how the captain is making out. If all has gone well, he ought to have carried out the first part of his program by this time."
But it was some hours—to Nat it appeared years—before his newly found friend appeared once more. This time he boldly carried a lantern as he emerged from the doorway of the old specie room. He explained this seeming lack of caution by saying that Morello and Dayton had both turned in for a heavy drinking bout, and that most of the crew were befuddled also.
"Dere iss only der man by der helm to look out for, und I guess ve can take care of him," he said, as, for the second time, he loosed Nat.
"And now," said Nat, as he stood free, "what next?"
Captain Nelsen produced a wrench. It was only a small one—a nickled bicycle tool, in fact—but he said that it would do to unfasten the bolts of the port through which they were to creep on their perilous attempt.
It was hard work getting the bolts loose with the small tool. But at last it was accomplished. Nat with difficulty stifled a whoop of pure joy as, the last bolt having been removed, they cautiously worked the port out of its place and, through the opening thus revealed, they saw the stars shining softly above the vast, lonely Pacific.
"Aber, so far so goodt," breathed the captain. He reached out, and after some feeling about grasped a dangling rope. It was the one he had found an opportunity to drop down earlier in the night. Dragging it inside the port, he turned to Nat.
"Der next step you vill haf to dake," he said, almost in an apologetic tone. "I am nodt so young as I vos vunce, und I'm afraid dot I make some noise mit my stiff old joints ven I go climbing abodt."
"Of course, I'll go up after the boat," said Nat hastily, "but first tell me is the steersman near to the helm?"
"No, der veel of der 'Nettie Nelsen' is quiet a distance from der tiller," said Captain Nelsen. "I hadt it built dot vay pecose mit der veel over der tiller she steered badly. If you haf luck, der helmsman vill nodt see you."
As there was no use hesitating any longer Nat grasped the rope. First, however, he removed his shoes and stockings. This was both for greater ease in climbing and also so that he would not make any more noise than was necessary.
"Well, here goes," he said, as with the rope in his hands he reached the edge of the opening and prepared to wriggle through. But the captain stopped him. The old seaman held out his right hand. Nat, perceiving what he meant, clasped it in a fervent grip.
"Got pless you," said the captain, with some emotion in his gruff tones. "You are a prave poy."
The next instant Nat was through the open port, the captain extinguishing the lantern as the lad vanished.
Nat was a good and an active climber, but to climb a rope in a "gym" is quite a different matter to ascending one when it is dangling loosely from the stern of a plunging schooner ploughing her way briskly over a heaving sea under a smart breeze.
As his body came on the cable Nat was swung about like the weight on a pendulum. Below him boiled the white wake of the "Nettie Nelsen." Mustering every ounce of his strength, he began to ascend the rope. But the task was the hardest he had ever tackled. Swung dizzily hither and thither through space, the boy's brain reeled and spun. But he stuck to it pluckily and by dint of sheer hard, gritty work he at length managed to clamber as high as the break of the stern, and attain the level of the stern cabin windows.
But as he reached it something happened which came very nearly terminating the night's adventure then and there. A sudden lurch of the schooner, coming as Nat reached for the solid, wooden stern works, flung him violently outward at the end of the rope. For one instant he impended dizzily above the gleaming white wake of the vessel. The next he was dashed with stunning violence toward the stern.
As he was swung inward with terrific velocity Nat, more by instinct than anything else, let go with one hand and held the released member out in front of him with the idea of breaking the impact of the blow against the "Nettie Nelsen's" stern.
But instead of striking solid wood, his fist, to his surprise, encountered something yielding—the shade of the open cabin port, in fact. Before Nat could quite realize what had occurred he heard a deafening crash within the cabin itself as some glass or chinaware, which had been standing in the open port, was knocked to the floor when his fist struck the shade.
At the same instant from within the cabin came an angry shout:
"What in the name of old Harry was that?"
Nat hastily dropped some distance down his rope as he heard footsteps crossing the cabin floor. Evidently, whoever had uttered the shout, meant to investigate the cause of the accident. The shade was pushed aside and Nat saw a head thrust out. His discovery appeared inevitable.