Owen Hartley; or, Ups and Downs Part 8

Owen found that the captain was right. A day or two afterwards one of the men, as usual, was ill-treating Nat. Owen, who was on deck, went forward.

"If you had a younger brother, or a nephew, how would you like to see him rope's ended and treated as you do that orphan boy, who has no friends to protect him?" he exclaimed.

"Are you an officer of this s.h.i.+p?" asked the man. "If not, what right have you to command me?"

"I do not command you," said Owen, "I am merely asking you a simple question."

"The young gentleman's right," observed several of the men. "Let him alone, Dan; the little chap has had hard lines since he came aboard here, from you and others, and we won't stand by and see him ill-used any longer."

Dan dropped the rope he held in his hand, and turned away, while Owen, hoping that he had gained friends for poor Nat, walked aft.

"He'll make a smart officer one of these days," observed one of the men.

"Ah, that he will, Ned," said another. "He is as handy already as many who have been at sea ten times as long."

The s.h.i.+p had now got well to the southward, and the influence of the trade-winds began to be felt. With yards squared she stood for the Cape.

Owen had just come on deck, when, looking forward, he saw a figure falling into the water. Instantly there was a cry of "man overboard."

He ran on to the p.o.o.p. The first mate, who was the officer of the watch, instantly gave the necessary orders to clew up the courses, put the helm down, to brace the yards to starboard, and bring the s.h.i.+p on a wind. At the same time preparations were made to lower a boat.

Owen, who saw that the person, whoever he was, unless a good swimmer, would be drowned before a boat could be lowered, seized a grating, and hove it overboard, then throwing off his jacket, plunged after it. He, though little accustomed to salt water had been from his earliest days in the habit of swimming in a large pond not far from Fenside, and his pride had been to swim round it several times without resting. He now brought his experience into practice; pus.h.i.+ng the grating before him, he made towards the drowning person, who, from the wild way in which he threw his arms about in attempting to keep afloat, was evidently no swimmer. The sea was tolerably smooth, so that Owen made good way, and in a short time he saw that the person was no other than his friend Nat Midge.

"Cheer up, Nat," he shouted. "Do not exhaust yourself; keep your hands quiet and tread water."

Nat heard him, and did his best to obey his injunctions. The s.h.i.+p appeared to be getting further and further from them, but the grating would be sufficient to support both if Owen once got it up to Nat. It was very clear, however, that Nat could not swim to it.

Owen struck out with all his might. He would have got on faster without the grating, but, in case Nat should get frightened, it might be dangerous to approach him. "It must be done, though," thought Owen; "he will sink if I do not get up to him quickly." Leaving the grating, therefore, he struck out rapidly for the boy, and had just time to seize him before, exhausted by his fruitless exertions, he was disappearing beneath the surface. Owen held him up. Happily the drowning lad retained his senses.

"Put your hand on my shoulders," said Owen, "and I will tow you up to the grating; just float, and do not attempt to help yourself."

Nat did as he was bid, and at length Owen had the satisfaction of reaching the grating, which Nat at once grasped.

"Hold on tight, and do not struggle so as to exhaust yourself. The boat will soon come to pick us up. If you can keep your head above water that is all that is necessary," said Owen.

But Nat had scarcely sufficient strength even to hold on. Owen, therefore, taking one of his hands a.s.sisted him to retain his hold beside him. The grating enabled them to keep their heads well out of the water, and Owen found that he could raise himself high enough up to look about him. Where was the s.h.i.+p? She appeared far away to leeward, but, as she had hove to, he felt sure that a boat was being lowered.

Still it seemed a long time to wait; the wind was increasing and the sea was getting up. It would be a hard matter to hold on to the grating, over which the sea frequently washed.

"They won't leave us, Mr Hartley?" said Nat; "it would be hard for you to have to die with me."

"No fear of that," answered Owen. "Do not give way; and see, there's the boat coming."

He was right. The boat which had been lowered on the lee side at that moment appeared from under the stern of the vessel, and pulled rapidly towards them.

Owen undid his handkerchief and waved it above his head. He had thrown off his cap before he had jumped overboard.

The boat, which was commanded by the second mate, was soon up to them.

"You did that well and bravely, Hartley," said Mr Grey, as Owen was seated by his side supporting poor Nat, who was in a very exhausted state. "I did not know even that you could swim, and you are the only one who thought of jumping overboard to the poor lad."

Loud cheers greeted them as they came alongside, and Owen received the compliments of the captain and the officers; even Mr Sc.o.o.nes condescended to acknowledge that he had done a brave thing.

Nat, under the care of the doctor, soon recovered.

"You have saved my life, Mr Hartley, and you have stood my friend ever since I came on board this s.h.i.+p," exclaimed Nat, the tears bursting from his eyes. "I wish I could show what I feel, but I cannot, and I never can thank you as much as I ought to do, that I know!"

"I don't see that I did anything out of the way," said Owen. "I saw somebody drowning, and I just acted as I judged best to save him; any tolerable swimmer could have done the same."

"That may be, sir," answered Nat, "but no one thought of doing it, and if you had not I should have been drowned, so I have good reason to thank you."

Captain Aggett had been for some time unwell, although he had come on deck as usual. He now grew worse, and for days together was confined to his cabin. Owen endeavoured to repay the kindness he had received by being unremitting in his attentions. He sat by his bedside smoothing the pillow which supported his fevered head. He read to him whenever he was able to listen, and was always at hand to give him a cooling mixture with which to moisten his parched lips. Although he talked of going ash.o.r.e at the Cape, he had so much recovered by the time the s.h.i.+p reached Table Bay that he resolved to continue the voyage.

The s.h.i.+p therefore only remained sufficient time to take in water and fresh provisions, and to have some slight repairs made which could not be done at sea, when she again sailed.

Owen had been very regular in taking observations, which Mr Grey always found to be correct, although they differed frequently from those of the first mate.

"The truth is that he is wrong, and you are right," observed Mr Grey.

"If the captain falls ill again I do not know which of us two is to navigate the s.h.i.+p. If we go by his calculations, the chances are that we shall run her bows on some rock or other."

"I sincerely hope that the captain will not fall ill," said Owen. "If he does, I am afraid that Mr Sc.o.o.nes will not acknowledge that he himself is ever out in his calculations."

Unhappily the captain's fever returned, and he became utterly unable to leave his berth. The doctor shook his head when speaking about him, and expressed a fear that his illness would prove fatal.

CHAPTER FIVE.

The "Druid" had run more than half across the Indian Ocean. She had encountered a heavy gale, and had been driven somewhat out of her course, but the weather moderated, and she was now steering for the Straits of Sunda. Unfortunately she received considerable damage. One of her boats had been lost, her bulwarks stove in, and her fore-yard sprung.

The captain, who had been on deck during the continuance of the gale, had over-exerted himself, and was now again confined to his cot. For several days, owing to a cloudy sky, no observation had been taken.

Owen had one evening entered the cabin shortly before the time for taking a lunar observation, in order to ascertain the longitude. Mr Grey had just before gone on deck with his s.e.xtant.

"Is the weather clear?" asked Captain Aggett.

"Yes, sir. There are but few clouds, and I think we shall get a good observation."

"I must go on deck and take one," said the captain, attempting to rise.

He sank back, however, before he could get out of his cot. Owen endeavoured to a.s.sist him, but his strength was insufficient. Again the captain endeavoured to rise. "I am weaker than I fancied," he murmured.

He lay quiet for a few minutes.

"Owen," he said at length, "I am afraid that my days are numbered. I should have been thankful had I lived to carry the s.h.i.+p into port, but G.o.d may will it otherwise. If I die, when you get home, see my poor widow, and deliver to her such property as I possess. She will not be left as well off as I should wish. I have not been as prudent as I ought to have been."

"You may trust that to me, sir, and I will do the best I can," answered Owen; "but perhaps you are not so ill as you suppose. Let me call the doctor, and he may give you something to restore your strength."

"Yes, call him; but I doubt if anything he can give me will do that,"

answered the captain.

The doctor had turned in, but immediately rose on being summoned by Owen. He brought some medicine with him, which he at once gave to the captain on feeling his pulse.

"You are a brave man, Captain Aggett," he said, "I will not disguise the truth from you. You are sinking. Any worldly matters you have to arrange should be settled without delay."