(Continuing from Part 51)
The captain and his chosen men were ready to attempt the most dangerous part of our plan.
They had to recover the ship while the remaining mutineers still believed their companions were somewhere on the island.
I knew that everything depended upon surprise.
If the men aboard discovered our intentions too soon, they might resist fiercely or sail away.
The captain had selected several sailors who had surrendered and promised to return to their duty. His loyal mate would also accompany him.
I trusted the captain’s judgment, although I could not be certain that every man would keep his promise.
Before they departed, I spoke to him privately.
“Remember,” I said, “that your success means freedom for us all.”
He assured me that he understood.
He also repeated his promise to take Friday and me to England if we recovered the vessel.
I wished him success.
Then the men climbed into the boat and pushed away from the shore.
I watched them disappear into the darkness.
Friday remained beside me.
We had agreed that I should stay on the island to guard the prisoners.
Some of them were still dangerous, and I could not risk leaving them without supervision.
I also wanted to be ready if the captain’s attempt failed.
The night was quiet.
I could see the dark shape of the ship against the sky.
Its masts rose above the water, and a faint light appeared near the deck.
I imagined the men aboard waiting for news of their companions.
They did not know that the captain was approaching.
I listened carefully.
For a long time, there was no sound except the movement of the sea.
I began to feel anxious.
Perhaps the captain had been discovered.
Perhaps the sailors had refused to let him aboard.
Perhaps the men I had trusted had betrayed him.
I tried to dismiss these thoughts.
The captain knew his ship and had prepared carefully.
Still, waiting was difficult.
At last, I heard a distant shout.
Then came the sound of gunfire.
I stood immediately.
Friday looked toward the vessel.
More shots followed.
The noise echoed across the water.
I could not see what was happening.
I knew only that a fight had begun.
I thought of the captain and the loyal men who had risked their lives.
I hoped that they would succeed.
The gunfire continued for a short time.
Then it stopped.
Silence returned.
I strained my eyes toward the ship.
Nothing moved that I could see.
I waited.
The minutes seemed unusually long.
Then, suddenly, I heard a cannon fired from the vessel.
The sound rolled across the sea and reached the island.
My heart leaped.
The captain and I had agreed upon a signal.
If he recovered the ship, he would fire a cannon to announce his success.
Now I had heard it.
The ship was ours!
I could scarcely believe my good fortune.
After so many years of disappointment, the possibility of escape had become real.
I thanked God for preserving us and bringing us to this moment.
Friday was delighted when I explained the meaning of the signal.
He had never known the life I had lived before coming to the island, but he understood how greatly I wished to leave.
We waited for daylight.
I knew that it would be unwise to approach the ship in darkness without knowing the full result of the fight.
When morning came, I looked toward the anchorage.
There was the English vessel, still safely at anchor.
Its appearance filled me with joy.
Soon a boat came toward the shore.
The captain was aboard.
When he landed, he hurried toward me.
His face showed both exhaustion and happiness.
He took my hand and thanked me warmly.
He told me that the ship had been recovered.
His men had approached without causing suspicion and had managed to board.
Once aboard, they had moved quickly against the leaders of the rebellion.
There had been fighting.
The rebel captain, who had taken command of the ship, had been killed.
The remaining men had surrendered.
The captain was once again master of his vessel.
I was deeply relieved.
He then led me toward the shore and pointed to the ship.
“There,” he said, “is your deliverance.”
I looked at the vessel.
For twenty-eight years, I had lived on the island.
I had survived hunger, sickness, storms, loneliness, and fear.
I had built shelters, planted fields, raised goats, and made nearly everything I needed with my own hands.
I had often wondered whether I would die there without ever seeing another Englishman.
Now an English ship waited to carry me home.
The thought was almost too great for me.
I felt weak and had to sit down.
The captain understood my emotion.
He allowed me time to recover.
Then he told me that he had brought something for me.
From the boat, his men carried several supplies.
There were bottles of wine, bread, meat, sugar, flour, and other provisions from the ship.
There were also clean clothes.
I had not worn proper European clothing for many years.
I looked at these things with astonishment.
They seemed like treasures from another world.
The captain offered them as a small expression of his gratitude.
I thanked him sincerely.
But I told him that the greatest gift was the chance to return home.
We then began discussing what remained to be done.
The prisoners on the island still required attention.
Some had taken part in the rebellion willingly and had committed serious offenses.
Others had followed the leaders and now regretted their actions.
The captain wished to take the most trustworthy men back aboard.
But he was uncertain what to do with the worst offenders.
I reminded him that we must act carefully.
The ship was recovered, but we could not allow another rebellion to begin.
We agreed that the dangerous men should remain under guard until we had decided their fate.
I also thought about the island itself.
For so many years, it had been my home.
I knew every path, field, and shelter.
Leaving it would bring happiness, but also a strange sadness.
I wondered what would become of the goats, the grain, and the buildings I had made.
I thought, too, of the Spaniard and Friday’s father.
They were still on the mainland, carrying out the plan we had prepared.
They did not know that an English ship had arrived.
I could not simply forget them.
Before departing, I would need to consider how they might return and what instructions I should leave.
The captain assured me that we would not sail immediately.
There was time to settle these matters.
I looked once more toward the ship.
For years, I had called the island my kingdom.
Now I had the opportunity to leave it.
And although I did not yet know what awaited me in England, I felt that the long and extraordinary chapter of my life on this lonely shore was drawing to its end.