The Ocean Cat's Paw Part 91

"I'll be hanged if I have!" cried the doctor, bringing his fist down with a tremendous thump upon the table, making one of the bottles leap up, fall over upon its side, and discharge its stopper at Rodd, who fielded it cleverly, though the contents--gelatinous infusoria and spirit of wine--were scattered all over the map.

"That's spoke like you, sir," cried the skipper; "but you needn't have spoiled my chart."

"Confound your chart, man! Here, Rodney, you hear all this? Do you think it's true?"

"No, uncle, I can't."

"Neither can I, sir. I cannot. I will not. You, Captain Chubb, you mean well, I know, but--Oh, it's outrageous! That I, Paul Robson, a man of my sentiments, should come to do such a disloyal thing as this-- this--this--this treachery against my country and my King! Here, Captain Chubb, are you mad, or--"

"Drunk, sir? Say it out. I don't mind. It does me good to see you come to your senses like this. Brayvo, sir! That's the way to take it."

"Oh, uncle!" panted Rodd.

"You let him alone, sir. He's all right," cried the skipper. "I've stuck the harpoon into him. You give him line, and you'll see we shall have him in his flurry directly."

"Stop, man! Where are your proofs?"

"Yes," cried Rodd, stamping excitedly about the cabin; "where are your proofs?"

"Proofs?" said the skipper. "I d'know. Yes, I do. You ask the Count to his face, and his boy with him, whether what I say aren't true."

"Yes," cried the doctor. "Go on deck, and take that confounded speaking trumpet of yours. Hail the brig, and ask the Count to come on board."

"Yes--with his son!" stormed Rodd. "How can I? They went off this afternoon on some game or another, and haven't been in sight since."

"Hah!" said the doctor, fanning himself with one hand, wiping his face with the other, and then shaking his bandanna silk handkerchief up and down to try and get cool. "There, I am not going to be in a pa.s.sion, Rodney. I am not going to say angry words to you, Chubb, for you believe all this, while I--I--I can't believe it. The Count is too grand a gentleman to have made a--a--what you said, of me. But I will have this matter cleared up, and you will have to apologise to me and the Count."

"And to Viscount Morny des Saix," cried Rodd.

"Yes, my boy; exactly," said the doctor; and then to the skipper--"If you are wrong!"

Saying this, he literally stamped out of the cabin.

"Where are you going, uncle?" cried Rodd, following.

"Up on deck, my boy," cried the doctor, without turning his head. "I feel like a furnace, and if I speak any more words they'll be like the skipper said--red-hot."

"Well," said the captain, as he stood staring towards the cabin stairs, "I never see'd the doctor with his monkey up like that afore. Anyhow, he aren't afraid to trust me with his bag of tricks down here, and bottles of mixture. But he needn't have spoiled my chart!"

CHAPTER FIFTY ONE.

THAT'S SAINT HELENA.

Night, and no sign of the brig. Morning, and the doctor and his nephew both on deck, with a sail in sight upon the distant horizon, while just beyond it, looming up, was what seemed to be a dark cloud.

"There she is!" cried the doctor, gla.s.s in hand. "We will soon know the truth now, Rodd."

"That, sir?" said a voice close behind them. "That's Saint Helena."

The doctor started round as though he had been stung, to stare fiercely in the frank face of Joe Cross, who looked rather thin and hollow-cheeked, but had declared himself well enough to take the morning watch.

"It is, sir," said the man, who took the doctor's angry stare for a look of doubt. "That's right enough, though it don't look like an island.

It's the big rock where they've got Bony shut up."

"Bah!" snapped the doctor, and he turned on his heel and walked away.

"Turned out of his bunk wrong side up'ards, sir?" asked the man, with a smile.

"Pah!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Rodd, and he stamped off in the other direction.

"Old 'un's been giving it to him, I suppose," said Joe to himself. "Oh, I know; he'd been upsetting that bottle of fish soup as the skipper fetched me down to swab up last night--that as went all over the skipper's chart. Pore young chap! I'll go and smooth him down."

"What do you want?" cried Rodd angrily.

"Oh, nothing, sir. I only wanted to say I'm sorry I put your uncle out about the island. I'm a bit deaf in one ear since I got hurt over that fight, and I mis-underconstumbled him. He said, 'There she is,' and I thought he was talking about Bony's island, and he meant the brig."

"Well, suppose he did? There she is."

"Nay, sir; you take another look. That's a three-master, sir. Don't you see?"

"Oh yes, I see now, Joe," said Rodd, who was rather ashamed of his petulance to the man. "She was end on to us, and I didn't see the mizzen. Why, she's in full sail!"

"Yes, sir, a regular crowd of canvas, topgallants and stunsles all up, and if I haven't forgotten all about a man-of-war, that's what she is, as we used to say, by the cut of her jib, which is a very sensible remark, sir, as from here her jib's quite out of sight."

The doctor kept on deck till breakfast-time, sweeping the horizon with his gla.s.s, while the skipper walked up and down with his long mahogany-covered gla.s.s tucked under his left arm, and his hands very deep down in his pockets, while his shoulders were hitched up to his ears.

Then breakfast, with everything hot except the conduct of the occupants of the cabin. This was almost icy, and hardly a word was spoken.

Up on deck again, with the schooner careening over to the pleasant breeze, but no sign of the brig; but the three-masted vessel was overhauling them fast, and before long a gun said, Heave to, in the very emphatic monosyllable so well understood in the Royal Navy.

The skipper gave a glance at Uncle Paul with one eye, and that morning it seemed if as he had been suddenly afflicted with a cast, for the other eye turned outward and looked at Rodd.

Then he gave the order to the man at the wheel, who with a few turns of the spokes ran the swift little vessel well up into the wind, her sails began to flap, and she quietly settled down into a gentle rock upon the beautifully rippled heaving sea. Then time went on, with the man-of-war bearing down upon them rapidly, while the doctor stood scowling angrily at the rock which had so much to do with the fate of nations standing out more clearly in the sunlit air.

In due time a boat full of men was swung down from the davits of the cruiser, the oars dipped, and she came skimming along with a steady pull, and every stroke pulled clean and with hardly a splash, till she came alongside, when, to the delight of Rodd, there in the stern-sheets were the same officer and middy who had overhauled them off the African coast.

Rodd was all eagerness, and advanced ready to grasp hands with the reefer, but to his great surprise everything was coldly stern and formal. Two marines followed the officers on board, and the skipper, doctor, and Rodd were ordered down into the boat as prisoners, while a prize crew under the command of the middy, who looked more important than he did upon his first visit to the schooner, and stared at Rodd as if he had never seen him before, was left on board.

Uncle Paul spoke to the lieutenant, but his words were received almost in silence, while no explanation being forthcoming, he sat still and frowned.

The sloop of war, their old friend, was soon reached, and the prisoners were marched up to the quarter-deck where the captain stood waiting for them, scanning them sternly before beginning to question the skipper as to the name of the schooner and their object in those waters.

Questions were answered and explanations given in Captain Chubb's most blunt and straightforward way, before the captain turned his searching eyes upon Uncle Paul.

"Then you are Dr Robson, sir?" he said.

"Yes. May I ask--"