With Porter in the Essex. Otis James

Phil replied with a laugh, "therefore we needn't spend time discussing that question."

      I noted a peculiar expression on Benson's face, but gave no great heed to it, for at that instant he had turned down a narrow street and was unlocking the door of a stone dwelling.

      "Do you live here?" Phil asked.

      "Yes; and I count on showing you two lads what a Chilian dinner is like. It will be something to talk about when you get home."

      He held the door open as invitation for us to enter; and although there was absolutely no reason why I should suspect him of having unfriendly designs upon us, I hesitated about going in.

      "Go on," Phil said, pushing me forward. "We're fortunate in having run across Benson, for there are not many lads, either here or at home, who would spend their time entertaining strangers."

      I could do no less than follow our host, who led us up one flight of stairs, and thence to the rear of the building. Then he opened the door of a room and stepped back a pace, that we might advance in front of him.

      At the outer entrance, I led the way, and while Phil followed close at my heels, the door was slammed behind us, the clicking of iron telling that we had been locked in.

      For an instant I was so bewildered as to be incapable of speech, and then I heard from the other side of the locked door a mocking voice: —

      "I'll keep you two Yankees here till your ship sails, and then find you a berth aboard a British whaler; it will be a paying speculation for me, and you'll have good opportunities for seeing the world."

      CHAPTER III

      OLIVER BENSON'S SCHEME

      Phil Robbins and I stood gazing into each other's eyes as if incapable of speech, during at least sixty seconds after the fellow who had trapped us announced the purpose of his scheme. That we two lads, who were of no consequence whatsoever in the sight of the officers of the Essex, should have been made the victims of a plot seemed too ridiculous to be true; but yet the locked door was sufficient evidence for the most incredulous.

      It was Phil who first found his tongue, and he asked sharply, as if positive I could give him a satisfactory answer: —

      "What does the villain mean by locking us in here? He must think we are rare prizes!"

      "I'm not making any mistake as to what you're worth," Benson cried from the hallway. "Yankees don't bring any extravagant price in this part of the world; but the demand is so great that I won't be forced to keep you many hours after your tub of a ship leaves port."

      My head was so thick that even then I failed to understand his purpose, but had an idea the fellow looked upon us as his personal enemies because England was at war with the United States, and said to Phil, giving no heed to the fact that I spoke sufficiently loud for Benson to hear: —

      "The fellow is such a fool as to believe he serves his country by imprisoning us."

      "That's where you are making a big mistake, my Yankee cub. Whalers in this portion of the world are not overly particular as to how they ship a crew, and pay a decently good price to whoever delivers them able-bodied hands."

      Now I understood what this enterprising Britisher had in mind. I remembered reading, before I left home, a long account of how sailors were trapped in foreign ports by the captains of whaling vessels who had lost members of their crews by death or desertion.

      If we could be held prisoners until there was no longer any American vessels in port, Benson might literally sell us to a British whaler; and once on board such a craft, our chances for escape or relief before the voyage had come to an end would be very small.

      I was overwhelmed with grief and anger. The knowledge of our helplessness increased my wrath until for a certain length of time I was little better than an insane lad.

      I stormed and raved from one end of the small apartment to the other, now and again throwing myself against the stoutly barred door as if by such means I might break it down; and during the paroxysm Phil lay at full length on the floor, giving noisy vent to his sorrow and despair. There was no care in my mind that Benson was most likely listening to all we said or did, and would set us down as chicken-hearted; I only gave heed to our situation, knowing full well how entirely we were in his power.

      It was not to be supposed that the Essex would remain many days longer in port; in eight-and-forty hours she would most likely get under way, and we two lads who had dreamed of winning honor and promotion would be set down as deserters. Even Master Hackett must believe we had run away, since, by trying to make him think we were not eager to remain in his company, lest he should waste all his time of liberty upon us, we had made it appear as if our greatest desire was to be alone.

      Like a flash all the possibilities of the situation came into my mind. I heard the comments of our shipmates, saw the word "deserter" written opposite our names on the ship's register, and imagined the grief of my parents when the Essex returned to port with such a disgraceful story concerning us. Meanwhile I could see Phil and myself forced to this or that disagreeable task, and the end of it all, a tardy release in some foreign port from which we would be forced to work our way home as best we might.

      It was a most mournful picture, view it in whatever light I might, and the stoutest-hearted could well be excused for growing faint and sick with apprehension.

      Whether we spent one hour or three in such useless wailings I am unable to say; it seemed to me much as if we had been a full day in that place before I so far recovered composure of mind as to be able to look at the situation with some degree of common sense, and then my first act was to soothe Phil, who still remained stretched at full length upon the floor, weeping and wailing.

      It was not a difficult task to persuade him into something approaching calmness; he had literally exhausted himself by giving way so violently to sorrow, and was, like myself, ready to play a more manly part.

      Our first act, after thus coming to our senses, so to speak, was to make a thorough examination of this apartment which served as prison; for of course the thought of escape had been uppermost in our minds, even when our grief was most violent.

      The room was not different from what one might have fancied after seeing the exterior of the building. It was, however, twelve feet square, with a ceiling so low that I could touch it by standing on tiptoe. There were two windows, both closely barred with iron, as I had already noticed was usual in Valparaiso, and the view from them was confined to a small plat of ground enclosed by a high wall of stone, the top of which was nearly on a level with one of the windows.

      "If we could get out of here, it would not be a difficult task to reach the ground," Phil said, in a certain tone of hopefulness.

      "I'd guarantee to bring up on the ground all right, wall or no wall, if it wasn't for the bars."

      Then, with one accord, we laid hold of the iron rods, wrenching at them with all our strength, but not moving them by so much as a single hair's breadth, so far as I could see.

      That Benson yet remained in the hall outside, and could hear all that was said or done, we knew when he cried mockingly: —

      "Keep on pulling at the bars so long as such work pleases you; they have held stronger men than you ever will be, and I'm not afraid of your giving me the slip in that way!"

      Thus we knew that the wretch had made a business of trapping strangers to sell them to whalers, and this but served to make our case appear more hopeless; for if he had had experience in such scoundrelly work, it was probable he would be on his guard against anything we might try to do.

      By this time I was weary, mentally and bodily, and, not minded to give the villain any more pleasure, – for I doubted not but that he enjoyed hearing his prisoners beat vainly against the bars of their cage, – I whispered to Phil: —

      "Don't speak nor move. We'll remain silent until he grows tired of listening and goes away."

      My comrade nodded to show that he agreed, and, seating ourselves on the floor where we could look out of the window, even though there was nothing save the small patch of grass to be seen, we held our peace until the shadows of evening began