the story of a bad boy-第26节

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ected　all　the　worthless　ordnance　they　could　find；　and　sent　it　by　the　cart…load　to　Rivermouth。

When　his　barn　was　full；　Silas　began　piling　the　rubbish　in　his　cellar；　then　in　his　parlor。　He　mortgaged　the　stock　of　his　grocery　store；　mortgaged　his　house；　his　barn；　his　horse；　and　would　have　mortgaged　himself；　if　anyone　would　have　taken　him　as　security；　in　order　to　carry　on　the　grand　speculation。　He　was　a　ruined　man；　and　as　happy　as　a　lark。

Surely　poor　Silas　was　cracked；　like　the　majority　of　his　own　cannon。　More　or　less　crazy　he　must　have　been　always。　Years　before　this　he　purchased　an　elegant　rosewood　coffin；　and　kept　it　in　one　of　the　spare　rooms　in　his　residence。　He　even　had　his　name　engraved　on　the　silver…plate；　leaving　a　blank　after　the　word　〃Died。〃

The　blank　was　filled　up　in　due　time；　and　well　it　was　for　Silas　that　he　secured　so　stylish　a　coffin　in　his　opulent　days；　for　when　he　died　his　worldly　wealth　would　not　have　bought　him　a　pine　box；　to　say　nothing　of　rosewood。　He　never　gave　up　expecting　a　war　with　Great　Britain。　Hopeful　and　radiant　to　the　last；　his　dying　words　were；　England…war　…　few　days…great　profits！

It　was　that　sweet　old　lady；　Dame　Jocelyn；　who　told　me　the　story　of　Silas　Trefethen；　for　these　things　happened　long　before　my　day。　Silas　died　in　1817。

At　Trefethen's　death　his　unique　collection　came　under　the　auctioneer's　hammer。　Some　of　the　larger　guns　were　sold　to　the　town；　and　planted　at　the　corners　of　divers　streets；　others　went　off　to　the　iron…foundry；　the　balance；　numbering　twelve；　were　dumped　down　on　a　deserted　wharf　at　the　foot　of　Anchor　Lane；　where；　summer　after　summer；　they　rested　at　their　ease　in　the　grass　and　fungi；　pelted　in　autumn　by　the　rain　and　annually　buried　by　the　winter　snow。　It　is　with　these　twelve　guns　that　our　story　has　to　deal。

The　wharf　where　they　reposed　was　shut　off　from　the　street　by　a　high　fence…a　silent　dreamy　old　wharf；　covered　with　strange　weeds　and　mosses。　On　account　of　its　seclusion　and　the　good　fishing　it　afforded；　it　was　much　frequented　by　us　boys。

There　we　met　many　an　afternoon　to　throw　out　。our　lines；　or　play　leap…frog　among　the　rusty　cannon。　They　were　famous　fellows　in　our　eyes。　What　a　racket　they　had　made　in　the　heyday　of　their　unchastened　youth！　What　stories　they　might　tell　now；　if　their　puffy　metallic　lips　could　only　speak！　Once　they　were　lively　talkers　enough；　but　there　the　grim　sea…dogs　lay；　silent　and　forlorn　in　spite　of　all　their　former　growlings。

They　always　seemed　to　me　like　a　lot　of　venerable　disabled　tars；　stretched　out　on　a　lawn　in　front　of　a　hospital；　gazing　seaward；　and　mutely　lamenting　their　lost　youth。

But　once　more　they　were　destined　to　lift　up　their　dolorous　voices…once　more　ere　they　keeled　over　and　lay　speechless　for　all　time。　And　this　is　how　it　befell。

Jack　Harris；　Charley　Marden；　Harry　Blake；　and　myself　were　fishing　off　the　wharf　one　afternoon；　when　a　thought　flashed　upon　me　like　an　inspiration。

〃I　say；　boys！〃　I　cried；　hauling　in　my　line　hand　over　hand；　〃I've　got　something！〃

〃What　does　it　pull　like；　youngster？〃　asked　Harris；　looking　down　at　the　taut　line　and　expecting　to　see　a　big　perch　at　least。

〃O；　nothing　in　the　fish　way；〃　I　returned；　laughing；　〃it's　about　the　old　guns。〃

〃What　about　them？〃

〃I　was　thinking　what　jolly　fun　it　would　be　to　set　one　of　the　old　sogers　on　his　legs　and　serve　him　out　a　ration　of　gunpowder。〃

Up　came　the　three　lines　in　a　jiffy。　An　enterprise　better　suited　to　the　disposition　of　my　companions　could　not　have　been　proposed。

In　a　short　time　we　had　one　of　the　smaller　cannon　over　on　its　back　and　were　busy　scraping　the　green　rust　from　the　touch…hole。　The　mould　had　spiked　the　gun　so　effectually；　that　for　a　while　we　fancied　we　should　have　to　give　up　our　attempt　to　resuscitate　the　old　soger。

〃A　long　gimlet　would　clear　it　out；〃　said　Charley　Marden；　〃if　we　only　had　one。〃

I　looked　to　see　if　Sailor　Ben's　flag　was　flying　at　the　cabin　door；　for　he　always　took　in　the　colors　when　he　went　off　fishing。

〃When　you　want　to　know　if　the　Admiral's　aboard；　jest　cast　an　eye　to　the　buntin'；　my　hearties；〃　says　Sailor　Ben。

Sometimes　in　a　jocose　mood　he　called　himself　the　Admiral；　and　I　am　sure　he　deserved　to　be　one。　The　Admiral's　flag　was　flying；　and　I　soon　procured　a　gimlet　from　his　carefully　kept　tool…chest。

Before　long　we　had　the　gun　in　working　order。　A　newspaper　lashed　to　the　end　of　a　lath　served　as　a　swab　to　dust　out　the　bore。　Jack　Harris　blew　through　the　touch…hole　and　pronounced　all　clear。

Seeing　our　task　accomplished　so　easily；　we　turned　our　attention　to　the　other　guns；　which　lay　in　all　sorts　of　postures　in　the　rank　grass。　Borrowing　a　rope　from　Sailor　Ben；　we　managed　with　immense　labor　to　drag　the　heavy　pieces　into　position　and　place　a　brick　under　each　muzzle　to　give　it　the　proper　elevation。　When　we　beheld　them　all　in　a　row；　like　a　regular　battery；　we　simultaneously　conceived　an　idea；　the　magnitude　of　which　struck　us　dumb　for　a　moment。

Our　first　intention　was　to　load　and　fire　a　single　gun。　How　feeble　and　insignificant　was　such　a　plan　compared　to　that　which　now　sent　the　light　dancing　into　our　eyes！

〃What　could　we　have　been　thinking　of？〃　cried　Jack　Harris。　〃We'll　give　'em　a　broadside；　to　be　sure；　if　we　die　for　it！〃

We　turned　to　with　a　will；　and　before　nightfall　had　nearly　half　the　battery　overhauled　and　ready　for　service。　To　keep　the　artillery　dry　we　stuffed　wads　of　loose　hemp　into　the　muzzles；　and　fitted　wooden　pegs　to　the　touch…holes。

At　recess　the　next　noon　the　Centipedes　met　in　a　corner　of　the　school…yard　to　talk　over　the　proposed　lark。　The　original　projectors；　though　they　would　have　liked　to　keep　the　thing　secret；　were　obliged　to　make　a　club　matter　of　it；　inasmuch　as　funds　were　required　for　ammunition。　There　had　been　no　recent　drain　on　the　treasury；　and　the　society　could　well　afford　to　spend　a　few　dollars　in　so　notable　an　undertaking。

It　was　unanimously　agreed　that　the　plan　should　be　carried　out　in　the　handsomest　manner；　and　a　subscription　to　that　end　was　taken　on　the　spot。　Several　of　the　Centipedes　hadn't　a　cent；　excepting　the　one　strung　around　their　necks；　others；　however；　were　richer。　I　chanced　to　have　a　dollar；　and　it　went　into　the　cap　quicker　than　lightning。　When　the　club；　in　view　of　my　munificence；　voted　to　name　the　guns　Bailey's　Battery　I　was　prouder　than　I　have　ever　been　since　over　anything。

The　money　thus　raised；　added　to　that　already　in　the　treasury；　amounted　to　nine　dollars…a　fortune　in　those　days；　but　not　more　than　we　had　use　for。　This　sum　was　divided　into　twelve　parts；　for　it　would　not　do　for　one　boy　to　buy　all　the　powder；　nor　even　for　us　all　to　make　our　purchases　at　the　same　place。　That　would　excite　suspicion　at　any　time；　particularly　at　a　period　so　remote　from　the　Fourth　of　July。

There　were　only　three　stores　in　town　licensed　to　sell　powder；　that　gave　each　store　four　customers。　Not　to　run　the　slightest　risk　of　remark；　one　boy　bought　his　powder　on　Monday；　the　next　boy　on　Tuesday；　and　so　on　until　the　requisite　quantity　was　in　our　possession。　This　we　put　into　a　keg　and　carefully　hid　in　a　dry　spot　on　the　wharf。

Our　next　step　was　to　finish　cleaning　the　guns；　which　occupied　two　afternoons；　for　several　of　the　old　sogers　were　in　a　very　congested　state　indeed。　Having　completed　the　task；　we　came　upon　a　difficulty。　To　set　off　the　battery　by　daylight　was　out　of　the　question；　it　must　be　done　at　night；　it　must　be　done　with　fuses；　for　no　doubt　the　neighbors　would　turn　out　after　the　first　two　or　three　shots；　and　it　would　not　pay　to　be　caught　in　the　vicinity。

Who　knew　anything　about　fuses？　Who　could　arrange　it　so　the　guns　would　go　off　one　after　the　other；　with　an　interval　of　a　minute　or　so　between？

Theoretically　we　knew　that　a　minute　fuse　lasted　a　minute；　double　the　quantity；　two　minutes；　but　practically　we　were　at　a　stand…still。　There　was　but　one　person　who　could　help　us　in　this　extremity…Sailor　Ben。　To　me　was　assigned　the　duty　of　obtaining　what　information　I　could　from　the　ex…gunner；　it　being　left　to　my　discretion　whether　or　not　to　intrust　him　with　our　secret。

So　one　evening　I　dropped　into　the　cabin　and　artfully　turned　the　conversation　to　fuses　in　general；　and　then　to　particular　fuses；　but　without　getting　much　out　of　the　old　boy；　who　was　busy　making　a　twine　hammock。　Finally；　I　was　forced　to　divulge　the　whole　plot。

The　Admiral　had　a　sailor's　love　for　a　joke；　and　entered　at　once　and　heartily　into　our　scheme。　He　volunteered　to　prepare　the　fuses　himself；　and　I　left　the　labor　in　his　hands；　having　bound　him　by　several　extraordinary　oaths…such　as　〃Hope…Imay…die〃　and　〃Shiver…my…timbers〃…not　to　betray　us；　come　what　would。

This　was　Monday　evening。　On　Wednesday　the　fuses　were　ready。　That　night　we　were　to　unmuzzle　Bailey's　Battery。　Mr。　Grimshaw　saw　that　something　was　wrong　somewhere；　for　we　were　restless　and　absent…minded　in　the　classes；　and　the　best　of　us　came　to　grief　before　the　morning　session　was　over。　When　Mr。　Grimshaw　announced　〃Guy　Fawkes〃　as　the　subject　for　our　next　composition；　you　might　have　knocked　down　the　Mystic　Twelve　with　a　feather。

The　coincidence　was　certainly　curious；　but　when　a　man　has　committed；　or　is　about　to　commit　an　offence；　a　hundred　trifles；　which　would　pass　unnoticed　at　another　time；　seem　to　point　at　him　with　convicting　fingers。　No　doubt　Guy　Fawkes　hims