'Eave-oh-haw, 'eave-oh-hoh!
'Eave-oh-haw, yoh-hee!
Sally come out to the wishing gate,
To the wishing gate with me.
'Eave-oh-hie, 'eave-oh-haw!
'Eave-oh-hie, yoh-hoh!
For after another day 'as run,
Oh Sally I've got to go.
So sang the jolly tars, as with mighty swing and steady rhythm they
pulled the halyards and set their sails.
"Did yo' see the leddy, Alf?"
"Bet yo' six-punce, I did."
"Ar'n't she a daisy?"
"Ef she ar'n't, I'd like to know where you'd find on'."
"It's just jolly to have the real thing aboard--none of your tuppenny'
a'penny pieces but a geno-wine leddy, thro' and thro'."
"Did you see how she was watchin' and smilin' while we was fixin' the
tackle by the big mast."
"Yes, we all seed it. She's got the hearts of the chaps already, even if
she be a married 'oman."
'Eave-oh-haw, 'eave-oh-hoh!
'Eave-oh-haw, yoh-hie!
Sally's gone back to the washing tub
And on ocean brine am I.
"Do you know, Ned, I've been on the _North King_ ever sin' she was
launched at Glasgow, seventeen year ago, and this is the first time a
leddy has ever sailed aboard of 'er."
"If they're all like this 'un, I hope it won't be the last time, uther."
But, 'eave-oh-haw, and 'eave-oh-hoh!
Yes, 'eave-oh-haw, yoh-hoo!
For whenever her lad comes home again,
His Sally will all'us be true.
And so the sailors echoed her praises, while they sang their songs and
adjusted the rigging of the ship, even before they were three days out
at sea.
Yes, Helen was on the _North King_, and her beauty and strong gentleness
had captured the hearts of everyone, soldiers and marines as well.
Already she was the acknowledged queen--queen of a mighty ship--for the
_North King_ had a splendid record. Never had she been defeated in
battle, and her history dated back beyond the time when she was one of
the vanguard in Nelson's memorable victory on the Nile.
Now, she had a double mission; first, to carry the two companies of the
100th Regiment to Halifax, together with their stores for a long
overland journey; and then to turn southwards along the coast line, to
join the British squadron in the siege of American cities.
Like many of the British war vessels of that date, however, she was
built in an antiquated style. While steady in movement and easily
manned, she was a slow sailer; very different from the clipper-built,
light-running American warships which had distressingly harassed the
British during several of their more recent engagements. This fact alone
made a sea-fight probable before Halifax could be reached, for the
American liners were ever on the look-out for incoming vessels.
The English motto, "Keep your musket polished and your powder dry,"
seemed to actuate every man on board; and an extra look-out was
stationed on the top-gallant mast to keep perpetual vigil.
Helen had never been on a man-of-war before; but she was a good sailor,
and although the passage was stormy, she enjoyed being on deck, clothed
in garments that resisted the penetration even of the December winds.
Her comfort, too, had been well provided for; and Captain Osborne, the
ship-master, out of courtesy to the bride, surrendered his little cabin
to herself and her husband.
Harold, on the plea of discipline, protested, but the captain insisted,
and gratefully they accepted the situation. The presence of a lady on
his ship softened the heart of the old bachelor, and having no rule to
guide him, he concluded to be a law unto himself.
While the rough weather did not affect Helen, it did materially affect
the women of the steerage. The compartment assigned to them and their
husbands was beneath the forecastle, at the extreme prow of the boat;
and owing to its forward position, the rocking during a rough sea was
extreme.
In the middle of the third day of the most prolonged storm of the
voyage, the tempest was at its highest. The ship with frightful lurches
pitched fore and aft--simply a plaything tossed at the caprice of the
untamed sea. Rain for the time was over, but the wind whistled wildly
through the rigging, stretching to their utmost the few sails that were
set.
Harold had many duties to perform that morning, and was late in
returning to his cabin. Three hours earlier he had parted with his wife,
and the storm not having reached its highest point, she had gone on
deck. Now, to his surprise, she was not to be found. First he scanned
the upper and lower decks, next the large saloon, and finally their own
stateroom; but all without avail.
He was seriously alarmed. It was the first time during the twenty days
of their voyage that he had missed her. Where could she be? With the
tremendous tip of the vessel, and the swash of the sea, could she have
been swept overboard? Was it possible that the angry waves had stolen
her from him? and unconsciously he wrung his hands in a sharp twinge of
agony.
Rushing up the gangway again to the upper deck, he met Captain Osborne
of the ship and his own Colonel coming down.
"You look alarmed, Harold!" cried Sir George. "Ammunition all right?"
"Yes, sir," he stammered, "but I am looking for my wife. She went on
deck at nine bells, and I've not seen her since."
"Oh, she's safe somewhere," was the reassuring answer. "You could not
lose a woman on the _North King_."
"You might lose one off, though, in a storm like this," said the
captain, chaffing the young benedict. "I've known more than one woman to
drop overboard--and men by the dozen."
"Stuff!" exclaimed Sir George, who saw that Harold was taking it
seriously.
"Fact," returned the officer. "We just lighted ship after each battle
was over." He laughed merrily, but Harold was off toward the soldier's
quarters. A new idea had seized him; perhaps she had gone to visit the
other women. Only the evening before, she had remarked that they had not
been on deck since the storm began. And he knew that some of them were
ill.
"Is Mrs. Manning here?" he asked of a seaman, as he rushed down the
stairway to their cabin.
"Yes, sir; Ahh think so," was the answer. "Corporal Jenkins' wife is
pretty low, and one of the wimmin fetched her. Theer she is at end o'
t' cabin under t' fo'castle."
Harold hurried on. Owing to the storm the hatchways had been fastened
down for days. The portholes were closed and the air of the densely
peopled compartment was impure. Still a couple of men at the far end
were again singing:
'Eave-oh-haw, 'eave-oh-hoh, 'eave-oh-haw, yo-hee!
Sally come out to the wishing gate,
To the wishing gate with me.
For a moment he felt savage, that his wife should be in a place like
this; but then as a counterfoil there was the shuddering thought, she
might have been overboard. Several men in the long, dark aisle stepped
aside to let him pass. By-and-bye he reached the wretched little cabin
which the women occupied. Helen was there, holding to one of the
uprights for support, and bending over the woman as she applied a
soothing lotion to her head with the other hand.
Involuntarily she started when she saw her husband approach.
"Sweetheart, this is no place for you," he muttered as he gently took
her arm.
"I had to come," she answered, motioning toward the bed. "I did not know
she was so ill until Mrs. Bond came for me an hour ago. She has been
sick ever since we came on board."
The woman was indeed ill. She seemed almost dying, and the foul air
only helped to aggravate her condition.
Harold drew Helen to one side. "This fetid place will kill you. You must
come away," he said.
"Never fear," she replied trying to smile. "I am much needed and can
stand anything. Both the other women are sick; and unless the poor
creature is helped she will die."
"From her looks," said Harold, "there is no hope even now. You had
better suggest to Mrs. Bond what to do, and then come with me. I will
speak to the Colonel of her condition at once."
"It is the abominable air that is killing her," said Helen.
"It is fetid, sure enough; but the storm is abating and the hatches will
soon be opened again," he returned.
From the centre of the low ceiling hung a lamp, and although mid-day,
its flickering light merely made the darkness visible. On the floor were
a couple of wooden stools; and upon the straw pallet of a lower berth
lay the woman. Covered with a grey blanket she tossed from side to side
with every movement of the ship; while her husband sat by her and wiped
away the saliva that ran from her mouth.
Helen was reluctant to leave, but she yielded, and Harold led the way to
the upper air. The sky was already clearing, and the waves had ceased to
wash the deck.
"What a pity we have no doctor on board!" she said, grasping his arm as
they steered for their own gangway. "It does not give the poor woman a
chance."
"The fact is, the marine surgeon took ill and had to be left behind at
the last moment, so the order came to have his place supplied when we
reach Halifax. Still the captain has a supply of medicines and is
skilful," said Harold.
"I know," returned Helen. "The women say he has given her calomel every
day since we sailed, and yet she gets worse."
"Perhaps his doses are not large enough," said Harold. "I know the
doctors call it one of their sheet anchors. I will speak to the Colonel
about it."
"And shall we have to go all the way to Penetang without a doctor?"
Helen asked with a little tremor in her voice.
"Oh, no, dearie; that will be arranged for when we reach port."
"Hello, my lady! So you were playing truant! trying hide-go-seek in the
nether regions, I hear," cried the Colonel with a laugh, as they entered
the saloon.
"The women sent for me, Sir George," she answered gravely; "that poor
woman Jenkins is very ill."
"Indeed, so bad as that!" he exclaimed in surprise. "I heard her case
was one of ordinary sea-sickness. Something must be done for her. She is
really the best woman that we have on board. Oh, here's the captain.
We'll see what he has to say." And turning to him: "This is distressing
news about Corporal Jenkins' wife," Sir George continued. "They say she
is terribly ill. Did you know it, Captain?"
"I am sorry to say it is true," was the answer. "She took ill right
after we left the channel, and should have been bled then; but there was
no one on board to do it, so I applied a dozen leeches and gave her
physic. Spite of all we could do, she got worse when the last storm
came, so I increased the calomel, but I fear it will be of no use."
"Are you sure you gave her enough?" asked the Colonel, echoing Harold's
question.
"I think so. It would hardly be safe to give her more. She is salivated
so badly now that she can scarcely swallow. The only thing left to do is
to give her opium."
"Too bad," returned Sir George. "After her large camp experience she was
a capital woman to have with us. We couldn't bring her children on
account of the overland journey, and now I fear we have made a mistake
all round. Zounds! I wish I hadn't brought her."
"It is hard to tell what is really the matter," said the captain.
"My own belief is that it is low fever contracted in Spain three months
ago," said the engineer. "She was not feeling well when we sailed. You
know, Colonel, she was with the Corporal throughout the continental
war, and he was transferred to us on his return."
"It is unfortunate that the sickness was not discovered sooner," said
Sir George, seriously. "Is there anything at all you can recommend,
Payne? It is a d----d shame that we have no doctor on board."
"We might try wine and bark, and stop the calomel," was the reply.
"I'm afraid her mouth is too sore to swallow," was Osborne's comment.
"Make her try," returned the engineer, "and give her opium afterwards to
soothe her gums."
And so saying they went down to lunch.
"I must see her again to-night," whispered Helen to Harold as they
seated themselves at their own little table in the saloon. "I really
must."
"But, Helen, the danger!"
"No danger at all, dearie! I may not ask to do it again." And there was
an appealing tone in her voice that Harold could not resist.
"Well, if you must, I will go too," was his answer. And silently they
finished their meal.