Travel Scholarships. Jules Verne

in a dark corner, they spoke quietly, before glasses that were emptied as often as they were filled. If only by their wild appearance or edgy attitude, an observer would have recognized men of the worst kind, rogues probably hunted by the police.¹ And what defiant and suspicious looks they cast on whoever came into this dubious inn, this poorly frequented tap² that was the Blue Fox!

      Moreover, taverns were not scarce in this portside neighborhood, and individuals in search of such refuges would have had plenty of choices.

      If Cork is an elegant city, such is not the case for Queenstown, a very busy city and one of the most important ports in Ireland. With an annual vessel movement of 4,500 ships measuring 1,200,000 tons, it is easy to imagine what kind of naval population pours in every day. Hence the numerous inns frequented by customers demanding little in terms of tranquility, cleanliness, and comfort. Foreign sailors rub shoulders with the natives. And this contact produces constant and brutal brawls that require the intervention of the police.

      If that day the police had penetrated into the lower room of the Blue Fox, they would have been able to apprehend a certain gang of criminals, just escaped from the Queenstown prison hours ago.

      Here are the circumstances:

      Eight days earlier, a warship of the British navy was bringing back to Queenstown the pirate crew of the English three-masted schooner Halifax, recently captured in the waters of the Pacific. For six months, that ship had been the scourge of the western waters between the Solomon Islands, the New Hebrides, and the New Brittany archipelago. Their capture was going to put an end to the many incidences of robbery and piracy of which the English nationals were particularly the victims.

      As a result of the crimes of which the law accused them—crimes confirmed as much by the facts as by witnesses’ accounts—an exemplary punishment would be pronounced against them. It was the death penalty, the gallows, at least for the most culpable leaders, the captain and the boatswain of the Halifax.

       A conversation among three men.

      The gang was comprised of ten individuals taken aboard the ship. The other seven who filled out the crew, after escaping in a small boat, had taken refuge on an island where it would be difficult to reach them. But at least the most dangerous of the men were in the hands of the English police and, while awaiting trial, they had been locked in Queens-town’s portside prison.

      It was nearly impossible to imagine the limits of the audacity of Captain Harry Markel and of his right arm, boatswain John Carpenter. Taking advantage of certain circumstances, they had successfully escaped from the prison the evening before and had hidden since then in this Blue Fox Tavern, one of the most ill-reputed taps in the port. Immediately, police squads were called. The fugitives, capable of any crime, could not have left Cork or Queenstown, and searches were carried out in different parts of the two towns.

      As a precaution, however, a certain number of agents guarded the area for several miles surrounding Cork Harbor. At the same time, the searches began and were to extend to all the inns and bars of the port-side neighborhood.

      These are indeed real refuges, where bandits succeed too often in escaping police chases. Provided they see the color of money, the tavern-keepers take in whoever asks for asylum, without worrying about what these people are or where they come from.

      Moreover, it must be mentioned, the sailors from the Halifax were from different ports in England and Scotland. None of them had ever lived in Ireland. No one would have recognized them either in Cork or in Queenstown—which made their capture unlikely. All the same, since the police had in hand descriptions of each of them, they felt very threatened. Of course, their intention was not to prolong such a perilous stay in town. They would take advantage of the first chance that would present itself to flee, either by disappearing into the countryside, or by going back out to sea.

      Perhaps this opportunity was going to present itself, and under very favorable conditions, as will be judged by the conversation of the three seated men who occupied the darkest corner of the Blue Fox, where they could talk in private, away from any indiscreet ears.

      Harry Markel was indeed the fitting leader of the gang. It was he who had not hesitated to turn the three-masted schooner Halifax, which he commanded on behalf of a Liverpool firm, into a pirate ship in the far Pacific seas.

      Forty-five years old, of average height, robust build, and solid health, wild-looking, he did not back down from any cruelty. Much better educated than his companions, although he had started out as a common sailor, he had eventually ascended to the position of captain in the merchant navy. Knowing his trade exceptionally well, he could have made an honorable career for himself, had his terrible passions, a ferocious appetite for money,³ and the desire to be his own master not pushed him into a life of crime. Moreover, skillful in disguising his vices under the roughness of a seaman, and aided by a rather persistent good luck, he had never inspired any mistrust in the ship owners whose vessels he commanded.

      The boatswain, John Carpenter, forty years old, shorter in height, of remarkable vigor, contrasted with Harry Markel by his deceitful appearance and hypocritical manners, his habit of flattering people, his instinctive treachery, and his remarkable power of pretense, which made him even more dangerous. All in all, he was not less greedy, not less cruel than his boss, and he exerted a detestable influence on him, which Harry Markel gladly endured.

      As for the third individual seated at the same table, it was the cook of the Halifax, Ranyah Cogh, of Indo-Saxon origin. Completely devoted to the Captain as well as to the rest of his companions, like them he deserved to be hanged a hundred times for the crimes in which they had all taken part during the last three years in the Pacific.

      These three men conversed quietly while drinking, and here is what John Carpenter was saying:

      “We can’t stay here! We must leave the tavern and the town this very night. The police are on our heels. And tomorrow we’ll be caught!”

      Harry Markel was not answering; but his opinion was also that he and his companions should flee Queenstown before sunrise.

      “Will Corty is late!” observed Ranyah Cogh.

      “Eh! give him time to get here!” answered the boatswain. “He knows we’re waiting for him at the Blue Fox and he’ll meet us here.”

      “If we’re still here,” replied the cook, glancing anxiously at the door, “and if the cops don’t force us to scatter!”

      “No matter,” said Harry Markel, “it’s better to stay here! If the police come to search this tavern like all the others in the area, we’ll not be surprised or caught. There’s an exit in the back, and we’ll take off at the slightest alarm.”

      For a few moments the Captain and his two companions were content to empty their glasses, filled with whisky grogs. They were almost invisible in that part of the room, lit by only three gas lamps. From everywhere rose a brouhaha of voices, a noise of benches moving, and crude abuse called out to the tavern-keeper and his assistant who nevertheless hastened to serve their rough clientele. Then, here and there, violent discussions erupted, followed by an exchange of punches. This was what Harry Markel dreaded the most. This kind of uproar might attract the police on duty in the area, and these criminals would then run the risk of being recognized.

      The conversation resuming among the three men, John Carpenter said:

      “Let’s hope that Corty has been able to find a rowboat and secure it!”

      “He must’ve done so by now,” answered the Captain. “In a port there’s always some small boat floating around at the end of a line. It’s not difficult to jump into, and Corty must have taken it to a safe place.”

      “The other seven,” asked Ranyah Cogh, “will they have been able to join him?”

      “Certainly,” replied Harry Markel, “since that was how it was planned. And they’ll stay to guard the boat until the moment we