Syd Belton Part 26

"Good luck to your honour! I am glad. When would you like me to be ready, sir? Shall I go on first and begin overhauling?"

"You, Strake?" said the captain, thoughtfully.

"You're not going to leave me behind, sir? No, no, sir; don't say that, sir--don't think it, sir. I'm as strong and active as ever I was, and a deal more tough. Ask him to take me, Master Syd."

"Take you, Strake?" said the captain again. "Why, what is to become of my garden?"

"Your garden, captain! What do you want with a garden when you're at sea? Salt tack and biscuit, and a few bags o' 'tatoes about all you want aboard s.h.i.+p."

The captain shook his head.

"It's a long time since you were on active service, Strake."

"Active sarvice, captain! Why, I was on active sarvice when the admiral hailed me; and, I tell you, I never felt more fit for work in my life.

Course I'd like to be your bo'sun, captain, but don't you stand 'bout that. You take me, and I'll sarve you afore the mast as good and true as if I was warrant officer once more. You've knowed me a lot o' years, Sir Thomas; say a good word for me."

"I'll say you're a good fellow, Strake, and a first-cla.s.s sailor," said the admiral.

"For which I thank ye kindly, sir. But you don't say a word for a man, Master Syd. I know I've cut up rough with you, sir, often over plums and chyce pears as I wanted to save for the dessart, but my 'art's been allus right for you, my lad, and never a bit o' sorrow till I see you flying in the master's face and not wantin' to sarve the King. You won't bear malice, sir, and 'atred in yer 'art. Say a good word."

"Yes, Barney. Do take him, father."

"It is a question of duty and of the man's ability. Look here, Strake, if I say no, it's because I fear that you would not be smart enough at your age. It is not a question of the will to serve."

"I should think not, sir. Why, you won't have a man of your crew more willing to sarve you right."

"I know that; but the activity and smartness?"

"Activity, sir? Why, I'm as light as a feather, sir, and I'd run up the ratlines and away aloft and clap my hand on the main-truck long afore some o' your youngsters."

"Well, Strake, I'll take you."

"Why--"

"Stop a moment. It must be with the understanding that you undertake anything I set you to do, for there may be a good boatswain aboard."

"Right, sir; any thing's my work. I'll see about my kit at once."

"Syd, you shall go with me, unless you would like to wait for a chance on another s.h.i.+p."

"No, father, I'll go with you," cried Syd. "And what about Pan?"

"He can come," said the captain. "Now leave me with your uncle, I want to talk to him at once."

A complete change seemed to have come over Barney as he made for the open window, not walking as usual, but in a light trot upon his toes, as if he were once more on the deck of a s.h.i.+p; and as soon as he was in the garden and out of sight of the window, he folded his arms and began to evince his delight by breaking into the first few steps of a hornpipe.

He was just in the middle of it when Pan came silently up behind with a board in each hand, to stand gazing from Syd to his father and back again in speechless wonderment, and evidently fully believing that the old man had gone mad.

All at once Barney was finis.h.i.+ng off his dance with a curve round on his heels, but this brought him face to face with his wide-eyed, staring son.

The effect was instantaneous. He stopped short in a peculiar att.i.tude, feeling quite abashed at being found so engaged, and Syd could hardly contain his laughter at the way in which the old boatswain got out of his difficulty.

"What now, you ugly young swab!" he roared. "Never see a sailor of the ryle navy stretch his legs afore?"

"Is that how sailors stretches their legs?" said Pan, slowly.

"Yes, it be. Now then, what have you got to say to that?"

"You arn't a sailor, father."

"What? Hear him, Master Syd? That's just what I am, boy, and you too.

We're all on us outward bound; and now you come along, and I'll just show you something with a rope's-end."

"Why, I aren't been doing nothing now," cried Pan, drawing back.

"Who said you had, you swab! Heave ahead. Stow talking and get that there rope. I'm going to give you your first lesson in knotting and splicing. Ah, you've got something to larn now, my lad. Go and run that there barrow and them tools into the shed. No more gardening.

Come on into the yard, Master Syd, and we'll rig up that there big pole, and a yard across it, and I'll show you both how to lay out with your feet in the sturrup. Come on."

"But, Master Syd, father isn't going to sea again, is he?"

"Yes, Pan, we're all off to join a fine frigate."

"And make men on you both," cried Barney. "Lor', it's a wonder to me how I've managed to live this 'long-sh.o.r.e life so long. Come on, my lads. No, no, don't walk like that. Think as you've got a deck under your feet, and run along like this."

Barney set the example, and Syd laughed again, for the gardener seemed to have gone back ten years of big life, and trotted along as active as a boy.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

"Have they come, Syd, lad?" said the admiral, as the boy walked into the private room of the Red Lion, Sh.o.r.eport, where the old man had taken up his quarters for the past fortnight, and had spent his time down at the docks, where the _Sirius_ was being overhauled in her rigging, and was getting in her stores and ammunition ready for her start to the West Indian station in another week's time.

The coach had not long come in, and on hearing the horn the old sailor, with a twinkle in his eye, had sent the lad to do exactly what he wanted, but would have shrunk from for fear of seeming particular.

"Yes, uncle," he said quietly, "a box has come."

"Well, well, where is it?"

"I told him to put it in my bedroom."

"Well, why don't you go and open it, and see if your outfit is all right?"

"Oh, there's plenty of time, uncle," said Syd, with a.s.sumed carelessness.

"Yah! get out, you miserable young humbug. Think I was never a boy myself, and don't know what it means. You're red-hot to go and look at your duds. There, be off and put on your full-dress uniform, and then come down and let's see."

"Put them on, uncle, now?"

"Yes; put them on now," cried the old man, imitating his nephew's voice and manner. "Yes, put them on--now. Not ashamed of the King's livery, are you?"