- end_line
- 7095
- extracted_at
- 2026-01-30T20:48:36.274Z
- extracted_by
- structure-extraction-lambda
- start_line
- 7033
- text
- When the Purser came on board, it turned out that he knew nothing at
all about the box. He had never so much as heard of it in his life. So
it was again brought up before the deck-officer, who immediately
summoned the master-at-arms.
“Break open that box!”
“Certainly, sir!” said the master-at-arms; and, wrenching off the
cover, twenty-five brown jugs like a litter of twenty-five brown pigs,
were found snugly nestled in a bed of straw.
“The smugglers are at work, sir,” said the master-at-arms, looking up.
“Uncork and taste it,” said the officer.
The master-at-arms did so; and, smacking his lips after a puzzled
fashion, was a little doubtful whether it was American whisky or
Holland gin; but he said he was not used to liquor.
“Brandy; I know it by the smell,” said the officer; “return the box to
the brig.”
“Ay, ay, sir,” said the master-at-arms, redoubling his activity.
The affair was at once reported to the Captain, who, incensed at the
audacity of the thing, adopted every plan to detect the guilty parties.
Inquiries were made ashore; but by whom the box had been brought down
to the market-boat there was no finding out. Here the matter rested for
a time.
Some days after, one of the boys of the mizzen-top was flogged for
drunkenness, and, while suspended in agony at the gratings, was made to
reveal from whom he had procured his spirits. The man was called, and
turned out to be an old superannuated marine, one Scriggs, who did the
cooking for the marine-sergeants and masters-at-arms’ mess. This marine
was one of the most villainous-looking fellows in the ship, with a
squinting, pick-lock, gray eye, and hang-dog gallows gait. How such a
most unmartial vagabond had insinuated himself into the honourable
marine corps was a perfect mystery. He had always been noted for his
personal uncleanliness, and among all hands, fore and aft, had the
reputation of being a notorious old miser, who denied himself the few
comforts, and many of the common necessaries of a man-of-war life.
Seeing no escape, Scriggs fell on his knees before the Captain, and
confessed the charge of the boy. Observing the fellow to be in an agony
of fear at the sight of the boatswain’s mates and their lashes, and all
the striking parade of public punishment, the Captain must have thought
this a good opportunity for completely pumping him of all his secrets.
This terrified marine was at length forced to reveal his having been
for some time an accomplice in a complicated system of underhand
villainy, the head of which was no less a personage than the
indefatigable chief of police, the master-at-arms himself. It appeared
that this official had his confidential agents ashore, who supplied him
with spirits, and in various boxes, packages, and bundles—addressed to
the Purser and others—brought them down to the frigate’s boats at the
landing. Ordinarily, the appearance of these things for the Purser and
other ward-room gentlemen occasioned no surprise; for almost every day
some bundle or other is coming off for them, especially for the Purser;
and, as the master-at-arms was always present on these occasions, it
was an easy matter for him to hurry the smuggled liquor out of sight,
and, under pretence of carrying the box or bundle down to the Purser’s
room, hide it away upon his own premises.
- title
- Chunk 2