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"Better be careful," cautioned the cook. "'Im an' the mate 'ad a go at the whisky last night, an' you know wot 'e is next morning."
The men went up slowly on deck. The morning was fine, but the air, chill with a breeze from the land, had them at a disadvantage. Ash.o.r.e, a few people were early astir.
"You go down, Thomas, you're the oldest," said Bill.
"I was thinking o' Ted going," said Thomas, "'e's the youngest."
Ted snorted derisively. "Oh, was you?" he remarked helpfully.
"Or Bob," said the old man, "don't matter which."
"Toss up for it," said the cook.
Bill, who was keeping his money in his hand as the only safe place left to him, produced a penny and spun it in the air.
"Wait a bit," said Ted, earnestly. "Wot time was you to call the old man?" he asked, turning to the cook.
"Toss up for it," repeated that worthy, hurriedly.
"Six o'clock," said Bob, speaking for him; "it's that now, cookie.
Better go an' call 'im at once."
"I da.s.sent go like this," said the trembling cook.
"Well, you'll 'ave to," said Bill. "If the old man misses the tide, you know wot you've got to expect."
"Let's follow 'im down," said Ted. "Come along, cookie, we'll see you righted."
The cook thanked him, and, followed by the others, led the way down to interview the skipper. The clock ticked on the mantlepiece, and heavy snoring proceeded both from the mate's bunk and the state-room. On the door of the latter the cook knocked gently; then he turned the handle and peeped in.
The skipper, raising a heavy head, set in matted hair and disordered whiskers, glared at him fiercely.
"What d'ye want?" he roared.
"If you please, sir-" began the cook.
He opened the door as he spoke, and disclosed the lightly-clad crowd behind. The skipper's eyes grew large and his jaw dropped, while inarticulate words came from his parched and astonished throat; and the mate, who was by this time awake, sat up in his bunk and cursed them roundly for their indelicacy.
"Get out," roared the skipper, recovering his voice.
"We came to tell you," interposed Bill, "as 'ow--"
"Get out," roared the skipper again. "How dare you come to my state-room, and like this, too."
"All our clothes 'ave gone and so 'as the sojer chap," said Bill.
"Serve you d.a.m.ned well right for letting him go," cried the skipper, angrily. "Hurry up, George, and get alongside," he called to the mate, "we'll catch him yet. Clear out, you-you-ballet girls."
The indignant seamen withdrew slowly, and, reaching the foot of the companion, stood there in mutinous indecision. Then, as the cook placed his foot on the step, the skipper was heard calling to the mate again.
"George?" he said, in an odd voice.
"Well?" was the reply.
"I hope you're not forgetting yourself and playing larks," said the skipper, with severity.
"Larks?" repeated the mate, as the alarmed crew fled silently on deck and stood listening open-mouthed at the companion. "Of course I ain't.
You don't mean to tell me-"
"All my clothes have gone, every st.i.tch I've got," replied the skipper, desperately, as the mate sprang out. "I shall have to borrow some of yours. If I catch that infernal-"
"You're quite welcome," said the mate, bitterly, "only somebody has borrowed 'em already. That's what comes of sleeping too heavy."
The Merman sailed bashfully into harbour half an hour later, the uniforms of its crew evoking severe comment from the people on the quay.
At the same time, Mr. Harry Bliss, walking along the road some ten miles distant, was trying to decide upon his future career, his present calling of "s.h.i.+pwrecked sailor" being somewhat too hazardous even for his bold spirit.
THE BULLY OF THE "CAVENDISH"
Talking of prize-fighters, sir," said the night-watchman, who had nearly danced himself over the edge of the wharf in ill.u.s.trating one of Mr.
Corbett's most trusted blows, and was now sitting down taking in sufficient air for three, "they ain't wot they used to be when I was a boy. They advertise in the papers for months and months about their fights, and when it does come off, they do it with gloves, and they're all right agin a day or two arter.
"I saw a picter the other day o' one punching a bag wot couldn't punch back, for practice. Why, I remember as a young man Sinker Pitt, as used to 'ave the King's Arms 'ere in 'is old age; when 'e wanted practice 'is plan was to dress up in a soft 'at and black coat like a chapel minister or something, and go in a pub and contradict people; sailor-men for choice. He'd ha' no more thought o' hitting a pore 'armless bag than I should ha' thought of hitting 'im.
"The strangest prize-fighter I ever come acrost was one wot s.h.i.+pped with me on the Cavendish. He was the most eggstrordinary fighter I've ever seen or 'eard of, and 'e got to be such a nuisance afore 'e'd done with us that we could 'ardly call our souls our own. He s.h.i.+pped as an ordinary seaman-a unfair thing to do, as 'e was anything but ordinary, and 'ad no right to be there at all.
"We'd got one terror on board afore he come, and that was Bill Bone, one o' the biggest and strongest men I've ever seen down a s.h.i.+p's fo'c's'le, and that's saying a good deal. Built more like a bull than a man, 'e was, and when he was in his tantrums the best thing to do was to get out of 'is way or else get into your bunk and keep quiet. Oppersition used to send 'im crazy a'most, an' if 'e said a red s.h.i.+rt was a blue one, you 'ad to keep quiet. It didn't do to agree with 'im and call it blue even, cos if you did he'd call you a liar and punch you for telling lies.
"He was the only drawback to that s.h.i.+p. We 'ad a nice old man, good mates, and good grub. You may know it was A1 when I tell you that most of us 'ad been in 'er for several v'y'ges.
"But Bill was a drawback, and no mistake. In the main he was a 'earty, good-tempered sort o' s.h.i.+pmate as you'd wish to see, only, as I said afore, oppersition was a thing he could not and would not stand. It used to fly to his 'ed direckly.
"The v'y'ge I'm speaking of-we used to trade between Australia and London-Bill came aboard about an hour afore the s.h.i.+p sailed. The rest of us was already aboard and down below, some of us stowing our things away and the rest sitting down and telling each other lies about wot we'd been doing. Bill came lurching down the ladder, and Tom Baker put 'is 'and to 'im to steady 'im as he got to the bottom.
"'Who are you putting your 'ands on?' ses Bill, glaring at 'im.
"'Only 'olding you up, Bill,' ses Tom, smiling.
"'Oh,' ses Bill.
"He put 'is back up agin a bunk and pulled his-self together.
"''Olding of me-up-was you?' he ses; 'whaffor, if I might be so bold as to arsk?'
"'I thought your foot 'ad slipped, Bill, old man,' ses Tom; 'but I'm sorry if it 'adn't.'