فصل 47

CHAPTER 47

THE LAUNCH

THE ENGINE CREW OF THE STEAMER Nimbus had seen their captain only once on this voyage. He was a last-minute replacement for Captain Peale, a fair and well-liked seaman who had commanded the Nimbus for twelve years.

But just before sailing, Mr. Peale and his regular officers and deckhands had all taken ill with a strange sleeping sickness. Only the four engineers working far belowdecks remained from the original crew. The Nimbus was lucky to have them: its twin engines were quirky, prone to problems that only the four engineers understood how to fix. They came to wonder if they were spared the illness because of this knowledge.

The one time they’d met their new captain had been enough. It was just before casting off; he’d come down to the engine room and told them, in a brief, snarling speech, that he didn’t want them associating with the rest of the crew. That was fine with them; they wanted no part of the new crew if it was anything like the new captain.

He was old, with a weather-ravaged face and dark eyes set in a permanent glare. The worst was his nose—or lack of one. He wore a beak of gray wood tied around his head, covering a hole in the center of his face. Sometimes when he spoke the hole emitted a deep whistling noise, like the hooting of an owl. The captain’s name was Nerezza.

After the Nimbus left port, the engine crew had almost no contact with anyone else on the ship. Their only communication with the captain came in the form of orders barked down the voicepipe from the bridge to the engine room. Occasionally the engineers ventured up on deck, but the new crew made it clear they were unwelcome, so they never stayed long. They were not told where the ship was going, or why.

One day, in midocean, the Nimbus stopped. Through a porthole, the engine crew caught a glimpse of a small dinghy being lowered, with four men aboard. After that, for many days, the Nimbus seemed to travel in a huge circle, many miles in diameter. They were out of sight of whatever they were circling, but the men in the engine room had spotted a small, persistent cloud on the horizon. They figured they were circling an island, day after day. But why?

“Some kind of smuggling,” was Chief Wilkie’s guess. The other three were inclined to agree. This Nerezza was a bad one, that much they were sure of. One of the men said he’d once heard a story about a Captain No Nose, who sailed to England with a ghost as cargo. The other insisted they didn’t believe in ghosts. But the story stayed with them, and more and more, they avoided the upper decks. All they wanted was to get off this ship alive.

But when? Endless day followed endless day, with the Nimbus always circling, circling.

And then one day some black smudges of smoke appeared in the sky, and the ship came alive. The crewmen readied the odd launch that had been loaded aboard the Nimbus just before she sailed—a sturdy-looking six-oar row-boat with a cargo space amidships. The engine crew had wondered what its purpose was. Even more mysterious was the launch’s cargo—four crates hauled up from the forward hold. The engine crew speculated on what was in the crates. Gold, was one theory.

At sunset, the ship turned toward the cloud on the horizon, and Nerezza’s command came down the voice-pipe.

“All ahead one-quarter,” he rasped. “Run her quiet, and no new coal.”

The engine crew knew what this meant. Nerezza had let the boilers build up heat; now they could propel the ship forward at a slow pace without so much as a puff of smoke from her stacks.

Night fell. Hours passed. The ship steamed quietly forward, all her lights out.

Then she stopped.

The engine-room crew, hearing activity above, went to the portholes. By the dim moonlight, they watched as the launch was lowered. There was a man at each oar, and one at the tiller.

“Take a close look at the tillerman,” said Wilkie.

The others squinted through the portholes and gasped. The man at the tiller was Captain Nerezza. He gave a hand signal. The six men pulled smoothly on the oars. The launch slipped away from the Nimbus, into the night.

“That’s two boats we’ve lowered now,” said one of the engine crew. “Where are they going?”

“I don’t know,” said Wilkie. “But wherever it is, there’s going to be trouble.”