down, overworked and underpaid by rich owners; and of how the law won't do nothin' for us; and he shows us a plan how we can live in peace and happiness and enj'yment all the rest of our lives; and then you turns up and knocks the whole bag o' tricks into a c.o.c.ked hat! Which of ye is right? If you're right, I stays as I am all my life, a poor, miserable sh.e.l.lback, endin' my days by sellin' matches in the streets, when I'm too old and too stiff wi' the rheumatics to go to sea any longer. That bein' the case, I'll give Mr Wilde's plan a trial for a spell; right or wrong."

"Very well," said I, "go your own way, if you will; but you will most certainly regret it some day when it is too late to retrace your steps.

And let me tell you this, Polson, you are attributing your position and its accompanying hardships to the wrong cause altogether. The true state of the case is that you are an ignorant and unintelligent man through lack of education. Did you ever go to school?"

"No, never, Mr Troubridge," answered my companion. "What little I knows I larned myself. My father, who was supposed to be a wharfinger, was too fond of the drink ever to be able to hold a job, the consekence bein' that my poor mother had to keep things goin' by takin' in washin'; and, since there was seven of us young 'uns, it took her all her time to find us in grub and clo'es. She hadn't no money to spare for eddication. Consekence was I didn't have none. And when I was 'bout 'leven year old things got to such a pitch at home that I cut and run, goin' to sea as cabin-boy in a Geordie to start with, and gradually workin' my way up to bein' a bosun, as I am now."

"Ah!" said I. "Well, you have done a good deal better, Polson, than many others in like circ.u.mstances. But--and this is my point--if your father, instead of stupefying his brains with drink, had been a sober, steady, hard-working man, and had done his duty by you to the extent of sending you to school, you would have gained a vast amount of valuable knowledge. You would have cultivated your intellect; you would have learned to discriminate between right and wrong; you would have been able to reason, and to perceive that certain causes invariably produce certain effects. You would have discovered that knowledge is power, and that the more knowledge a man possesses the higher he is able to rise in the world. Instead of stopping at being a boatswain, you would have risen to be, first a mate, and then a master--and possibly an owner some day, as other men have done. Now, put that in your pipe and smoke it!"

And I jumped up and went below to fetch my s.e.xtant up on deck; for by this time it was drawing well on toward noon.

As the day wore on, the wind fell lighter, until by sunset the ship scarcely had steerage-way; consequently it was not until the next morning that we found ourselves off the island of Amsterdam, past which we drifted so slowly that, had there been anyone on the island, they would have had ample time to make their presence known. But we saw no one, nor anything in the least resembling a signal. After skirting the western side of the island to its northern extremity, I gave the order to bring the ship to the wind, and gave the officer of the watch a compa.s.s course of east-south-east for Cape Otway. I was not going to yield to Wilde at the first demand; and not at all, if I could possibly help it; although my talk with the boatswain was of anything but an encouraging character. There was still the carpenter, however; and I thought I would sound him as to his views on this visionary scheme of Wilde's, the very first step toward the realisation of which involved an act of piracy. But when I came to talk to him I soon found that he was even worse to deal with than the boatswain; for although perhaps not quite so ignorant as the latter, he was still ignorant enough to be convinced by the specious arguments of the Socialist, to readily accept the doctrine of perfect equality between all men, and--like most of those whose labour is of an arduous character, and whose life is one of almost constant hardship and privation--to be dazzled by the alluring prospect of being able to live out the rest of his days on an island where--according to Wilde--Nature would do all the work, and man would only need to stretch forth his hand to gather in her bounties.

I will do Wilde the justice to say that he manifested no impatience while awaiting the announcement of my decision relative to the proposal which he had made to me; on the contrary, when I met him at the cabin table at meal-times he was very chatty and friendly, with a certain subtle suggestion of patronage in his tone, however, that rather went against the grain with me; but he asked me no questions until I had set the course for Cape Otway, and the island of Amsterdam was melting into the haze astern of us. Then, being on the p.o.o.p at the moment when I gave the course to the helmsman, and hearing its direction, he came up to me and said:

"Are you aiming for any point in particular in directing the helmsman to steer east-south-east, Mr Troubridge?"

"Yes," said I. "If the wind will permit us to steer that course long enough it will eventually bring us within sight of Cape Otway."

"Cape Otway!" he repeated. "Um! the name seems not altogether unfamiliar to me, and as a man who has been for some years a schoolmaster I suppose I ought to be able to say, offhand, exactly where it is. But my memory upon such matters is a trifle weak, I am afraid.

Perhaps you will kindly tell me where Cape Otway is?"

"Cape Otway lies some sixty miles--more or less--south-west of Port Philip Heads," said I, "and, excepting Wilson Promontory, is the most southerly headland of Australia."

"Of course, of course," he exclaimed with a little air of vexation.

"Dear me! how marvellously easy it seems to forget such details. I am afraid our system of education does not attach nearly as much importance as it ought to the study of geography. Ah, well; what matters it? I have done with such trifles, I hope, for the remainder of my days. Does Cape Otway happen to be on our road to the Pacific, Mr Troubridge?"

"Yes," I said; "that is to say, if one elects to go south-about. But the Pacific is a big sheet of water, and there are two or three ways of getting to it from here. All depends, of course, upon the particular part of the Pacific to which one is bound."

"Yes, of course," agreed Wilde. Then he turned suddenly, and, looking me keenly in the face, remarked: "Really, you know, Troubridge, you impress me very favourably--very favourably indeed! I shall be profoundly sorry if we are obliged to part with you, for you seem to me to be a lad of considerably more than average intelligence. That remark of yours touching 'the particular part of the Pacific to which one is bound'--by the way, have you a tolerably intimate knowledge of the Pacific?"

"No," said I; "I know nothing whatever of it except the part which lies between Australia and Cape Horn."

"Which, I take it, comprises a very small portion of the whole?"

questioned he.

"A very small portion indeed," I agreed.

"Ah!" he commented. "Can you tell me whether there happens to be a map of the Pacific on board this ship?"

"It is quite possible," I said. "She is pretty well-stocked with charts; and, now that you come to mention it, I believe there is a chart of the Pacific in the rack."

"Let us go down and ascertain, shall we?" said he. And, placing his hand within my arm, he gently but firmly led me off the p.o.o.p. It may, of course, have been pure imagination on my part, but his manner seemed to say as distinctly as words--"Don't mistake my politeness and geniality for weakness. I believe in putting things pleasantly, but when I make a suggestion I intend it to be accepted as a command."

We descended together to the captain's cabin--which I now occupied--and he entered it with me, laughingly explaining that he was sure I would excuse the liberty he was taking in doing so, and at once fell to examining the labels of the charts in the rack.

"Ah! here we are," he exclaimed, laying his hand upon a roll labelled "Pacific Ocean". "Let us take it into the main cabin and study it together."

He laid it out flat upon the cabin table and placed four weights at the corners to hold them down. Then he bent over the sheet and studied it with extraordinary interest.

"So this is what you call a chart, is it?" he exclaimed. "I see that it varies very materially from an ordinary map, in that it gives a great deal of information about the sea, and not much about the land, beyond its outline." And he began his study of it by asking the meaning of certain mysterious lines and markings upon it. Then he asked a number of questions respecting the various small islands dotted about, more or less in patches, upon it, to answer which I had to hunt for a Pacific Directory, which I fortunately found in the bookcase; and finally, after we had thus been engaged for an hour or more, he said:

"It is perfectly clear to me that it would be idle for us to determine, at this distance, in what particular part of the Pacific we will search for our future home. That search must be conducted methodically; and after studying this chart very carefully, I have come to the conclusion that our best course will be to begin our search here,"--indicating with his finger a point about midway between the north-western extremity of New Guinea and the Pelew Islands--"and work our way in an easterly direction."

"Have you read those notes?" I asked, drawing his attention to certain notes on the chart explaining that: "the Caroline, Marshall, and Solomon groups are almost entirely unknown, and are believed to have many dangers in their neighbourhood not marked upon the charts; navigators are therefore cautioned to exercise the most extreme vigilance when approaching or sailing among them."

"Certainly I have, my boy," he answered; "and it is to them that my choice of that part of the ocean is chiefly due. Those islands, you see, are 'almost entirely unknown'; which means that if we can find one among them of a suitable character for our new settlement, we are not likely to be disturbed by the intrusion of curious and inquisitive visitors. Therefore, kindly take measures to navigate the ship to the spot that I have indicated."

It was on the tip of my tongue flatly to refuse to have anything whatever to do with him or his scheme, and to defy him to do his worst, when the germ of an idea came floating into my mind, and I said instead:

"Do you leave the choice of route to me? Because, if so, I shall certainly go south-about past Australia, as being much the safer route."

"Safer, possibly, but not nearly so direct," replied Wilde. "Therefore, since we are all anxious to begin our new life as early as possible, let us take the shorter and more direct route, past the north-west of Australia, and through the Banda Sea and Molucca Pa.s.sage."

"That route positively bristles with dangers, as you might see if you understood a chart," I exclaimed, in tones of exasperation.

"I do not doubt your word for a moment, my dear boy," answered Wilde soothingly. "But we shall bear in mind the warning of the chart; we shall exercise 'the most extreme vigilance' in the midst of those dangers; and I have not the slightest doubt that everything will be all right. And now, to change the subject, have you made a choice between the two alternatives that I submitted to you yesterday?"

"You mean the alternative of joining you or of being drowned?" I asked with vindictive emphasis.

"Precisely," he answered with a smile of the utmost suavity. "And, understand me, youngster," he continued, with a sudden change to sternness in his manner, that disconcerted me a great deal more than I should have cared for him to know, "if you decide to join us you must do so wholeheartedly, and with no mental reservations. Those who are not with us must inevitably be against us; and the issues at stake with us are of far too grave a character to allow of our running any risk from secret enemies. No mercy will be shown to traitors, I a.s.sure you; so do not permit your mind to dwell upon any plan in which submission that is to be only apparent has a place."

"You do not leave me very much choice," I remarked. "If I refuse to throw in my lot with you, you drown me; and if I accept your alternative, and should be unlucky enough to incur the suspicion that I am not acting honestly with you, what happens?"

"We hang you," answered Wilde tersely.

"I see," I said. "The choice you offer me appears to lie between the certainty of drowning and the risk of hanging. I am by no means certain that it would not wiser on my part to choose the former, and get it over and done with at once. But I will think it over and let you know."

"Yes, pray do so," returned Wilde, in the same exasperating tone of suavity. "And, before we dismiss the subject," he continued, "let me give you a word of genuinely friendly advice. Get rid of that idiotic idea of choosing the alternative of being drowned, and getting it over and done with as soon as possible; because so long as you allow your imagination to dwell upon it, it will simply warp your judgment and prevent you from arriving at a sound, sensible conclusion. No young man possessing a sound mind in a sound body--as you appear to do-- deliberately chooses death, and the annihilation which follows it, rather than the long years of ease, happiness, and comfort which will be yours if you join us; so why should you, eh?"

"I will think it over, and let you know as soon as I have arrived at a decision," I repeated. "But don't you make any mistake about the annihilation that comes after death. That is the atheist's notion; but, if you are reckoning upon anything of that kind, to save you from punishment for your misdeeds in this present life, you are going to be badly undeceived; make no mistake about that."

"My boy," he said, laying his hand upon my shoulder, "if you possess any religious convictions, retain them by all means, and much good may they do you; but do not try to convert me. No scruples of what they term a religious character will ever be permitted to deter me from taking any steps, that may appear necessary to further and ensure the success of my schemes."

"Such, for instance, as committing murder," I retorted. "All right.

But let me tell you that the hint--or threat, call it which you like-- will not influence me a hairbreadth, one way or the other."

"Very well, my dear boy," he returned; "be it so. At least we thoroughly understand each other, don't we? And--don't be a fool!"

With which parting shot he left me, and, proceeding to the main deck, entered into conversation with some of the emigrants who were leaning over the bulwarks, idly watching the water as the ship drove slowly through it.

"Don't be a fool!" It was excellent advice, although given by a man whose folly I regarded as stupendous, and I determined to follow it.

Then I proceeded to reason out the matter with myself, for it was evident that I should very soon have to come to a decision; and it appeared to me that there was nothing to be gained by delay. In the first place, I was compelled inwardly to admit that, intensely as I disliked Wilde, and stupendous as I considered his folly, there was sound sense in his suggestion that I should abandon the idea of throwing away my life. But when it came to his insisting that, if I decided to afford him that help, I must do so with no mental reservations, that was altogether a different affair. He was compelling me to do something to which I very strongly objected, leaving me no choice between that and death; and since he had no scruples about employing all the power he possessed to thus constrain me, I felt that I, too, must throw my scruples overboard in my endeavour to defeat him. He had the power to compel me to help him; and, that being the case, it seemed to me that it would be sound policy on my part to afford that help with as good a grace as I could muster; but, so far as "mental reservations" were concerned, I resolved that if I could find means to make known what had happened to the _Mercury_, and thus bring a British man-o'-war out to rescue the ship and cargo from the scoundrel who was so determinedly bent upon stealing them to carry out his own mad, visionary scheme, I would do so, and risk the consequences.

CHAPTER FIVE.

A CONDITIONAL SURRENDER.