"Ay, ay," growled the sleepy sailor. "What's matter?"
"We're at Portsmouth."
"Right you are, mate," cried the man, jumping up and fumbling in his
pocket for his pass, just as the ticket collector came up. Then, on
they went a short distance; the train stopped again, and shivering with
excitement, and fear, lest the "Flash" should have sailed, the Skipper
alighted with his new friend, who shouldered his kit, and they walked
off rapidly to the stairs.
Bob's eyes were wandering outward, in search of his father's vessel,
which he had visited three times, but it was not lying where he saw it
last, and his heart was sinking again, when his companion said sharply:
"There she lies; blue Peter up--just see it. Look at 'em hysting her
lights. This way."
The sailor was wonderfully quick and business-like, now, and all fell
out, as he had said, about the boatmen, one of them grumbling; but he
did not refuse the job, and in ten minutes they were getting very close
to the soft grey side of the "Flash," with the boy trembling still, for
fear he should see it begin to glide away, before he could reach the
side.
[Illustration: "In ten minutes they were getting close to the
'Flash.'"]
But there she still swung to the buoy as they came up, and the Marine
sentry at the gangway challenged.
"Good-bye," said the Skipper, handing his threepenny piece to his
travelling companion, "and I wish you a pleasant voyage."
The boat floated away into the darkness, and the Skipper ran up the
steps, to where the sentry stood grinning, and puzzled as to whether
he should call the officer of the watch to the familiar young visitor.
"Where's my father?" said the boy; "is he in his cabin?"
"Shore, at the Port Admiral's, sir," said the sentry.
Here was a disappointment; but it was something to have got on board in
time, and the Skipper began to walk aft, while the Marine, taking it as
a matter of course that the Captain's son should have come on board,
resumed his watch.
There were not many men on deck, and they were all too busy to pay any
heed to the boy, as he looked about, in vain, for the familiar figure,
the coxswain. At last, he stopped a man carrying a lanthorn.
"Can you tell me where Jack Robinson is, please?"
"Who?" said the sailor, staring. "Ain't nobody o' that name here."
"I mean Tom Jeffs," said the Skipper hurriedly.
"Oh, him! Ashore with the gig, waiting to bring the skipper aboard."
Bob looked about again and finding himself close by, and knowing his
way, he went nervously into his father's cabin, where a lamp hung
beneath the sky-light, but it was turned down very low. The place was
empty, and all seemed very dark and lonely, but he could hear the crew
stumping about and making strange noises as if busy preparing to start.
Then he started, for the steam whistle gave out a dismal shriek, and
then there was a low hissing and humming noise, announcing that there
was too heavy a pressure of steam.
The boy, after walking about the cabin a few times, sat down on one of
the lockers, and the humming, buzzing noise of the escaping steam began
to have a strange effect upon him. First he began to nod, and then he
dropped off fast asleep, but started up again directly and began to
walk about to try and keep awake.
But he was utterly worn out with the excitement he had gone through;
the gloomy cabin was hot and close, and in spite of trying hard to keep
awake, his eyelids grew more and more heavy, and at last, almost
without knowing what he did, he crept to his father's berth, drew the
curtain back, and threw himself down; the curtain dropped back across
it, and the next minute he was sleeping soundly, with the dull,
snorting, humming buzz of the escaping steam going on and mingling with
his dreams.
After a time he had a faint consciousness of hearing voices in the
cabin, where the lamp had been turned up. One of the voices seemed to
be that of his father, and a faint quiver ran through him, while he
felt as if he were in among the fir-trees, where the thick rope had
been fixed up to two of the stems, and he was gently swinging to and
fro. But it was not nice, for the movement made him feel giddy and
strange. And then it was that Bob fancied he tried to stop the swing
and sit still, but somehow it would not stop, and the feeling of
giddiness increased.
It did not wake him up, though, and he slept on, knowing nothing about
the Captain coming on board, with his latest despatches. Then the cable
was unfastened from the buoy, the swift vessel began to glide along
with the tide, which was running fast, and the Captain went up on the
bridge, along with his chief officer. Every now and then a sharp sound
like the striking of a clock was heard, these sounds being the striking
of the little gong in the engine-room, where the engineer and his
assistants were tending the bright machine, which sent the screw
propeller whirling round, and making the water foam astern.
The Skipper slept on heavily while Captain Trevor stayed upon the
bridge all night, with his chief officer and the pilot, the fast boat
tearing through the heavy swell, which they entered as soon as they
were out of the shelter of the Isle of Wight. For the Captain's orders
were urgent, and he was to get right away at once.
"Good-bye, dear old home," said the Captain, as he stood on the bridge,
feeling his ship quiver like a live thing as she raced along. For the
last link which tied them to the shore, seemed to him to be broken,
when the "Flash's" engines were stopped for the pilot to go down into
his boat, which dropped astern into the darkness directly the gong
sounded for the engines to go on ahead: and away she raced, once more,
through the black darkness, with nothing to guide her upon her journey
through the pathless sea, except a little flickering quivering
needle--the sailor's companion the great world round--the friend which
always, no matter where they may be, points with its tiny finger
constantly to the north.
Towards morning Captain Trevor went down twice into his cabin, and the
second time stayed for a few minutes, to drink the cup of tea his
servant brought him; but he did not hear the breath of the sleeper in
his berth, and he went up again to stay upon the bridge, for the
weather promised to be hot and dull and hazy, and the Captain gave his
orders to the navigating officers to keep on at a good speed, for, he
said, he was afraid they would find fog in the mouth of the Channel,
and he hoped to get out well to sea, before the sun was high.
Everything goes like clockwork on board a man-of-war, and just before
breakfast-time Captain Trevor went down to his cabin to wash and
prepare for the morning meal; he had hardly thrown off his coat, when,
there was a faint sound in his berth, and, to his astonishment, the
Skipper rolled out, bump! on to the floor, rose, staggered with his
hands stretched out, and then, before his father could catch him,
charged at the opposite bulkhead, and went down again.
For a few moments the Captain, in his wonder, could not speak. Then as
the boy struggled to his knees, looking horribly white, he cried out
angrily:
"Good gracious, boy, what are you doing here?"