Roger Trewinion Part 28

I was silent.

"Ah, well, lad, I will not pry into your secrets; sometime, perhaps, you may want to tell me," and he walked away.

Still I watched, while the couple on the cliff became more and more indistinct, and the old grey tower seemed to melt away in the steely sky, and as it did so my feelings softened, for I felt I was bidding good-bye to it for ever. My love for Ruth began to exert its power, and although I felt bitter, the thought of going back to wreck her happiness was repugnant.

On, on we swept, until Ruth and Wilfred could no longer be seen, and the old house was hidden by the p.r.o.ngs of the "Devil's Tooth." Then I broke down and sobbed like a child. Now, indeed, I was alone and without a friend. There was no brightness in my sky, no hope for the future. Truly I was sad at heart. With that the words of old Deborah Teague came back to me.

"Mind, mind Trewinion's curse, tes comin', tes comin'. I see Maaster Roger homeless, friendless, despised, disgraced. Mind, Maaster Roger, mind."

CHAPTER XIV

"A HOME ON THE ROLLING DEEP"

I found Luke Miller, the captain of the boat, to be kind and friendly.

Not that he took any notice of me for several days. He did not. But when we arrived at Plymouth, and were away from the crew, he began to talk kindly to me.

"Tretheway," he said, "I don't know anything about you, and it may be that in talking freely to you I am in one sense taking a liberty. May be you have been brought up well; fact, I'm sure you have. But all that's no business of mine. What I want to say is this, I like you. I daren't show it at sea, as there'd be jealousy. At the same time, if ever I can show my real friends.h.i.+p to you, or if ever you want a friend, you know where to come."

I thanked him warmly.

"There's just another thing to say, lad. You've had a quiet time on board yet, for the men ain't known what to make of you, but they begin to feel their way. They fancies you are a swell and a sneak, so keep your weather eye open. The best men of the crew are leaving here, too, and I am afraid I shall have to pick up a rough lot, so, as I say, keep a sharp look out."

I found this advice very much to the point a day or two after. Not that I minded much. I was too terribly bitter towards almost everything to care what happened to me. Still, when we were fairly out at sea from Plymouth, and the men began to play practical jokes upon me, I remembered the captain's words and remained cool.

There were one or two discontented men on board who took it into their heads that I had a doubtful past, and, moreover, that I had a secret in my life of the discovery of which I was in constant fear.

It was afternoon, and the men having nothing special to do were standing lazily around. I was making my way to the bowsprit, and was walking rather rapidly, when the biggest bully on the boat put out his foot and threw me head foremost. This was received with a loud guffaw of derisive laughter, and the man who had done it was highly complimented on his achievement. I took no notice, however, doing that which I had set out to do. This, instead of lessening their dislike for me, increased it, and for days after I was subjected to many petty annoyances. A few weeks before, I should not have stood it. I was wild and pa.s.sionate then, full of life and strength, now I was so bitter that I scarcely felt any interest in anything. Besides that, the men were so low and brutal that I disliked encountering them.

At last I went to them and asked what I had done to make them constantly wish to annoy me.

"Because tha'art a coward and a snaik," said one.

"A spy and a tell-tale," said another.

"Cause you think yourself too good to mix with we, who are a mighty sight better than you," said another.

"Or else you're afraid we'll find out something of your dirty ways,"

said two or three together.

I felt sick and sad at heart. To mix with these men was bad enough, to come into such relations.h.i.+p with them as would lead to a brawl was worse.

"I'm not a coward, a spy, a sneak or a tell-tale," I said quietly. "I don't think myself too good to mix with any honest man, and I'm not afraid of your finding out anything about me."

With that the bully placed himself before me and spat in my face. In a moment my calmness and self-control were gone, and in a minute more we were engaged in a hand-to-hand fight. The devil that my hatred for my brother had aroused now showed itself, and I fought with all the fury of a demon. My opponent was as big as I, and as strong, or would have been had he not abused his strength by evil habits; and in addition to this, he knew many tricks of fighting unknown to me. Minute after minute we fought, he more for the love of fighting than for hatred for me, I with a mad heart, and with every evil pa.s.sion aroused. If at that moment I could in no other way have beaten him save by selling my soul to the devil, I am sure I should not have hesitated to make the bargain. I had allowed an evil pa.s.sion to enter my heart, and it had poisoned my whole being. Thus it was that I determined to die rather than be conquered.

A determined man can do almost anything. A mad man is supernaturally strong. I was both. Thus, at length, by a trick of wrestling, and a blow that would have felled an ox, I laid him bruised, bleeding and senseless on the deck. This did not satisfy me. I turned to another who had been prominent in seeking to quarrel and laid him beside the first. Then like a mad bull I rushed upon the rest.

I don't know what happened after that, save that there was a terrible scuffle, and I found myself struggling in the grasp of brawny arms, after which I felt a heavy stunning blow which rendered me oblivious to all my surroundings.

When I awoke to consciousness I was in chains, and the captain by my side.

"Well, Tretheway," said he, "and this is the way you carry on?"

I was silent.

"I took you for a decent lad, perhaps my better in many things, and yet, here I find you fightin' like th' old Nick himself."

"What have I done?" I said sulkily.

"Done! Why disabled two men, unfitted them for work for a week at least, knocked two more into a c.o.c.ked hat, and would have killed 'em if the whole crew hadn't seized you and took you below here and put you in irons!"

"Somebody has struck me," I said. "I've a wound on my head."

"A chap said he were obliged to do that or you'd a bin the death of him."

"Captain," I said, "you know the truth about this, and that I sought no quarrel; but now, now--if one of them dares to trifle with me I'll----"

"You won't have the chance, Tretheway, my boy. Every man jack of 'em declares they will not sail with you. They've all given warnin' unless you are dropped at the first port."

"Why?"

"Because they say you are not a man but a devil. They say yer eyes were red, and they see a flame a comin' from yer mouth as you fought, and although they're a bad lot I hain't got time to get a fresh crew to suit you, so you must either be left in irons until we get to London, or be dropped at Dover."

"I'll go to London," I said; "I may stand a better chance there."

The captain left me, and I was again alone. I did not feel at all excited, but a kind of despair possessed me. I was not at all surprised or annoyed at the men. I felt that they were right. I should have done harm to them had I remained at liberty. I was not fit to have my irons knocked off. The spirit of hatred possessed me, hatred that was dark and murderous, and hatred is the devil.

I spoke to no one during the time I remained on the vessel. I spoke not when the irons were knocked off my feet and hands by the captain.

I climbed to the deck, and saw the men huddled together as if in fear, and I stood and watched them; then I looked and saw we were anch.o.r.ed in a great tidal river, and that London, great London, was on either side of me. Once it would have aroused all the enthusiasm and excitement of my nature. Now I was unmoved. I was about to leave the boat, when a thought struck me and I turned to the captain.

"Captain Luke Miller," I said, "you know the whole meaning and history of this matter, and that I picked no quarrel. I don't grumble; but I want you to stretch a point for me. Can you give me a certificate as an able-bodied seaman?"

He did not speak, but put a piece of paper in my hand, and pointed to the board by which I was to leave the boat. I gave him a look of thankfulness and left.

I tramped through the crowded London streets unheedingly. I did not realise the seething surging, ma.s.ses of people; I forgot that I was in the greatest city of the world, the centre of thought, and power, and learning.

At length I came to London Bridge. I did not know it at the time, but I have since learned that such was the fact. I stood for a little while wondering at the great crowds of busy people, and then I looked at the broad, dirty river. A large vessel was being unloaded of her cargo, and I went straight to the captain.

I asked him for a place among the crew. He looked at me suspiciously and then said, "Who was your last captain?"

I told him.

"Let's have a look at your papers," he said.

Although I had not looked at what Captain Luke Miller had given me, I handed the certificate to this skipper, who read it carefully.