help. If I set you to hold a lanthorn, you'd be in somebody's way. We
can't half of us work as it is, for want of room. It's a sad job."
As he spoke he kept on caressing Bruff, who rolled his stupid great head
from side to side with evident enjoyment, while, in spite of the horror
of what was going on, Mark could not help a feeling of satisfaction at
the way in which his dog was growing in favour.
One hour--two hours--three hours must have gone by, and still the men
toiled on at their fearfully difficult task, one which seemed to grow
more solemn as they went on.
"Can't hear a sound, my lad," said the first-mate; "and I think we'll
try the dog again. Come along, old chap."
Mark loosened his hold on the dog, and he followed the mate and was
lifted down into the great cavernous hole the men had made, while a
lanthorn was held so that they could watch his proceedings.
Bruff did not leave them long in doubt, but began snuffing at one side,
close to the end, following it up by scratching and whining.
"That'll do," shouted the first-mate hoarsely. "Come, my lad. That's
it. Good old dog, then!"
He lifted Bruff out and passed him up to Mark, who leaned over and
listened as in the midst of a deep silence Mr Gregory slapped the side
of a case.
"Now, then, where are you?" he shouted.
There was no reply; and he shouted again and again, but without effect.
"At it you go, my lads," he said, drawing in his breath with a hiss.
"He must be in here; the dog says so."
"Ay, ay, sir!" rose in chorus, and the task was resumed with fresh
energy, and but for the careful management of the two officers there
must have been a fresh mishap, the sailors being rather reckless and
ready to loosen packages whose removal would have caused the sides of
the heaps to come crumbling down in a cargo avalanche, to cause disaster
as well as delay.
Another hour had passed and Bruff had been had down four more times,
always after his fashion to show where the man they sought must be, but
still there was no result to their task, and Mark felt a blank sensation
of despair troubling him, for he could see that the first-mate was
beginning to lose faith in the dog's instinct, though there had for long
enough past been nothing to prove that he was wrong, not so much as a
sigh being heard.
"I think we'd better have the dog down again," said Mr Gregory at last,
his voice sounding strange from deep among the cargo. "Stop a moment,
my lads. Silence, and pass me a lanthorn."
At the sound of his voice Bruff uttered a whine, and Mark had to hold
tight by his collar to keep him back.
Directly after, as the lad looked down he could see the mate tap once
more upon a case in the curious-looking hollow.
"Now, then," he shouted, "where are you?"
There was a silence that was painful in its intensity, and then plainly
heard came a faint groan.
"Hooray, my lads! he's here, and alive yet," cried the mate, and the men
set up a hearty cheer. "Steady, steady! He's close here. Let's have
out this case next."
"No, no," cried the second-mate; "I see."
"See what?" said Mr Gregory gruffly.
"Ease off that bale a little, and we can draw him out."
"Draw him out! How? Well, of all! Of course!"
A lanthorn was being held to the side beneath Mark, and, staring over,
he, too, grasped the position, which was plain enough now to all.
The case which the mate proposed to remove was one of the great deal
chests with the top angle cut right off and used to pack pianos, and in
the triangular space nearly six feet long between the case and the
chests around the unfortunate man had crept, taking it for granted that
he would be able to creep out again forward or backward after the ship
had sailed.
The easing away of one package was enough now, and as the light was
held, the legs of the prisoner were seen, and he was carefully drawn
out. A rope was placed round his chest, and he was hauled out of the
great chasm and hoisted carefully on deck, followed by the whole crew of
workers, who formed a circle about him, as the first-mate went down on
one knee and trickled a little brandy between his teeth.
"Shall I send one of the lads for a doctor?" said Mr Morgan.
"Wait a minute," was the first-mate's answer. "He was not suffocating,
as you can see. It was sheer fright, I think. He'll come round in a
few minutes out here in the fresh air."
The second-mate held down the light, and as Mark, for whom room had been
made, gazed down in the ghastly face of the shabby-looking man, Bruff
pushed his head forward and sniffed at him.
"Yes, that's him, old fellow," said the mate patting his head. "You are
a good dog, then."
Bruff whined, and just then the prostrate stowaway moved slightly.
"There, he's coming to; give him a little more brandy, Gregory," said
the second-mate.
"Not a drop," cried the other fiercely. "Yes, he's coming round now. I
think I'll finish off with the rope's end--a scoundrel!"
A minute before, in spite of his rough ways, Mark had begun to feel
somewhat of a liking for the first-mate, especially as he had taken to
the dog; but now all this was swept away.
"Oh, yes, he's coming to," said Mr Gregory, as the man's eyelids were
seen to tremble in the light of the lanthorn, and then open widely in a
vacant stare.
"Where--where am I?" he said in a hoarse whisper; and then he uttered a
wild cry and started up in a sitting position, for Bruff had touched his
cheek with his cold nose.
"Where are you! On the deck of the _Black Petrel_, my lad, and you're
just going to have that dirty shirt stripped off your back, ready for a
good rope's-ending."
"No, no! no, no!" cried the poor wretch, grovelling at the first-mate's
feet, and looking up at him appealingly.
This was too much for Bruff, who set up a fierce bark, and seeing his
new friend apparently attacked he would have seized the crouching man
had not Mark dropped down and seized his collar.
"Not do it, eh! You scoundrel! what do you mean by this hiding down in
that hold and giving us hours of work to get out your wretched carcass,
eh?"
"Please, sir--forgive me, sir. Let me off this time, sir."
"Kick the poor wretch out of the ship and let him go," said the
second-mate in a low voice.
"Let him go! Not I. I'm going to flog him and then hand him over to
the police."
"Ay, ay," rose in chorus from the men, who, now that they had with all
respect to humanity saved the interloper's life, were quite ready to see
him punished for his wrong-doing, and the trouble and extra labour he
had caused.
"There, you idle vagabond, you hear what the jury of your own countrymen
say."
"Let me off this time, sir. I was nearly killed down there."
"Nearly killed, you scoundrel! Serve you right; trying to steal a
passage and food from the owner of this ship. How dare you do it?"
"I--I wanted to go abroad so badly, sir," said the shivering wretch.
"I'd no money, and no friends."
"I should think not indeed. Who'd make a friend, do you think, of you?"
"Nobody, sir. I did try lots of captains to take me as a sailor, but no
one would."
"Why, of course they wouldn't, you scoundrel!" stormed the first-mate.
"Can you reef and splice and take your turn at the wheel?"
"No, sir," whimpered the man.
"Can you go aloft without tumbling down and breaking somebody's head
instead of your own idle neck? Could you lay out on the foretop yard?"
"No, sir, but--but I'd try, sir, I would indeed, if you'd let me."
"Let the poor wretch go, Gregory," whispered the second-mate.
"Sha'n't!" snapped the first-mate; and as he raged and stormed Mark felt
more than ever that this was the real captain of the ship, and that his
father must occupy a very secondary position.
"I would work so hard," said the poor fellow piteously. "I only want to
get into another country and try again."
"At our owner's expense, eh? Do you think the crew here want you?"
"No, no," rose in chorus; and Mark's heart gave a leap of sympathy, and
anger against the men.
"There, you hear, you idle, cheating vagabond. Where did you want to
go?"
"Anywhere, sir, anywhere. Do let me go!"
"Yes, to the police station. You'll have to answer for all this."
Mark looked at the poor, wretched, piteous face, and then up at the
mate, whose countenance was like cast-iron with the tip of his nose
red-hot. He glanced at Mr Morgan, who was frowning and looked annoyed,
but who smiled at Mark as their eyes met.
"Here, Billy Widgeon, fetch one of the dock police," cried the
first-mate.
"Ay, ay, sir," cried the little sailor with alacrity; and he was in the
act of starting, while the stowaway was once more appealing piteously
and Mark was about to take his part, when a quiet firm voice said aloud:
"What's the matter?"
Mark's heart gave a bound, and for the moment he thought everything
would be set right in a humane way. Then, as he heard the chief mate
speak, he felt that it would be all wrong.
"What's the matter, Captain Strong!" thundered the officer.
"Everything's the matter. Here we've to sail first tide to-morrow, and
look at us. My cargo, that was all stowed, hauled all over the ship.
We've been ever since four o'clock getting him out, and now it's nearly
ten. And look at him--all hands unstowing cargo to get out a thing like
that!"
"Where was he?" said the captain sternly.
"Where was he!" roared the mate, who looked as if one of his legs was
quivering to kick the grovelling stowaway; "where wasn't he? Groaning
all over the ship; and if it hadn't been for that dog--"
"Ah! the dog helped, did he?"
"Yes, sir; smelt him out buried down below a thousand tons--"
"More or less," said Mr Morgan laughing.
"Well, I didn't weigh or measure the cargo, did I, sir?" roared the
first-mate. "Look at it, sir--look at it, captain. We shall be at work
all night re-stowing it, and then sha'n't be done."
"He was right down there?"
"Yes, sir; and if we hadn't got to him he'd have been a dead man in a
few hours; and a good job too, only see what a nuisance he would have
been."
"How came you to do this, sir?" cried Captain Strong, turning to the
man, who still crouched upon the deck.
"I wanted to get abroad, sir. Pray forgive me this time."
"You must have been mad," cried the captain. "Did you want to be buried
alive?"
"No, sir. I didn't think you'd fill up above me, and I thought I could
creep out by and by; but--but they stopped up both ends of the hole, and
then--then they piled up the boxes over my head, and it got so hot, sir,
that--that--I could hardly breathe, and--and--and, sir, I couldn't bear
it, I was obliged to cry for help; but I wish I'd died in my hole."
"Poor wretch!" muttered the captain; but his son heard him and pressed
nearer to his side, as he gazed at the stowaway, a man grown, but who
was sobbing hysterically, and crying like a woman.
"Here, Widgeon, I told you to fetch one of the dock police," said the
first-mate fiercely.
"Ay, ay, sir!" cried Billy Widgeon, and Mark's heart sank as he felt
that his father was only secondary in power to the fierce red-nosed
mate. But the next instant a thrill of satisfaction shot through him,
for his father said in a calm, firm way:
"Stop!"
"Ah, we'll soon set him right," said the mate; "a miserable, snivelling
cur!"
There was a laugh among the crew, and at a word from the mate they would
have been ready to pitch the miserable object overboard.
"What is your name?" said the captain.
"Jimpny, sir. David Jimpny."
"Pretty name for a Christian man," said the mate; and the crew all
laughed.
"What have you been?" said the captain.
"Anything, sir. No trade. Been out o' work, sir, and half starved and
faint."
"Out of work!" roared the mate. "Why, you wouldn't work if you had it."
"Wouldn't I! You give me the chance, sir."
"Chance!" retorted the mate scornfully.
"Perhaps the poor wretch has not had one," said the captain. "Look
here, my man."
"I haven't, sir; I haven't had a chance. Pray, pray, give me one, sir.
I'll--I'll do anything, sir. I'll be like a slave if you'll only let me
try."
"We don't want slaves," said the captain sternly; "we want honest true
men who will work. Small."
"Ay, ay, sir," said the boatswain.
"This man has been half starved; take him below and see to him, and see
that he is well treated."
"Ay, ay, sir," cried the boatswain. "Now, my swab."
"God--bless--"
"That will do," said the captain coldly. "No words. Let's have deeds,
my man."
The abject-looking wretch shrank away, and the first-mate gave an angry
stamp upon the deck.
"Look here, Captain Strong," he began furiously.
"That will do, my dear Gregory," said the captain, clapping him on the
shoulder. "I wish the man to stay."
Mark Strong felt his heart at rest, for, as he saw the effect of his
father's words upon the chief mate, he knew once and for all who was the
real captain of the ship.
CHAPTER SIX.
HOW MARK STRONG MADE FRIENDS.
"Of course we shall not be able to sail at the time down," said the
first-mate rather huffily.
"Of course we shall, Gregory," said the captain quietly. "Morgan, I'm
sorry you've had such a job as this. Divide the men into two watches.
I'll take the first with some extra hands. Gregory and I will get on as
far as we can till you and your watch are roused up. You'll go at it
fresher. Pick out the most tired men for turning-in."
"They're all tired alike," said the first-mate gruffly. The captain did
not answer, but went aft with his son.
"Rather a queer experience for you, Mark," he said as they entered the
cabin, to find that Mrs Strong was there, waiting eagerly to know what
was wrong on board.
Her anxieties were soon set at rest, and after a little examination of
the place, the steward pointing out which were the cabins of the
passengers expected to come on board the next day, Mrs Strong settled
herself calmly down beneath the lamp and took out her work.
"Why, mother," said Mark, "anyone would think you were at home."
"Well," she replied smiling, "is it not home where your father is."
The reply was unanswerable, and being too restless to stay below when
all was so novel on deck, Mark soon after went to where, by the light of
many lanterns, about a third of the crew, supplemented by a gang of men
from the dock, were hard at work trying to restore order in the hold.
"Hallo, youngster!" said a sharp voice; "don't get in the way. Here,
hallo, old what's-your-name! Come here."
Bruff gave his tail a wag, and butted the first-mate's leg, submitting
afterwards to being patted in the most friendly manner.
"Good dog that, young Strong."
The mate did not wait to hear what was said in reply, but dived down
into the hold, while Mark joined his father.
"This is trying to bring order out of chaos, Mark," he said
good-humouredly; and then turned sharply to look at a strange, gaunt
sailor who came up and touched his hat.
"Hallo! Who are you? Oh, I see; our stowaway friend!"
"Yes, sir. Can I help, sir?"
"Well, yes--no--you had better not try at present, my man. Get used to
the deck first, and try and put some strength in your arms."
"Please, sir, I--"
"That will do," said the captain coldly. "Obey orders, and prove that
you are worthy of what I have done, and what I am going to do. I don't
like professions."
The captain walked away, and the stowaway stood looking after him, while
Bruff walked up and smelled him suspiciously.
"Nobody don't seem to believe in me," said the man in a discontented
tone of voice.
"Try and make them, then," said Mark, who felt repelled by the man's
servile manner.
"That's just what I'm agoin' to do, sir," said the man, speaking with
the most villainous of low London accents.
"What did you say was your name?"
"David, sir; David Jimpny. He won't bite, will he, sir?"
"No. Here, Bruff, leave that alone and come here."
Mark's declaration that the dog would not bite seemed to give the man
very little confidence, and no wonder, for Bruff kept eyeing the
stowaway suspiciously in a way which seemed to indicate that he was
looking out for a fleshy place to seize, but to his disappointment found
none, only good opportunities for a grip at a bone.
Just then Small the boatswain came up from the hold, nodded at Mark, and
gave one of his thumbs a jerk.
"I showed you your berth, my lad, go and turn in."
The man went forward and disappeared below, while the big rough
boatswain gave the captain's son another friendly nod.
"Got to be drilled," he said. "Rough stuff to work up into a sailor.
Rather have you, squire."
"Oh! I should not make a good sailor," said Mark lingering.
"Not if I took you in hand, my lad? Why, I'd make a man of you in no
time. Is the skipper going to hand you over to me?"
"No; I'm only going as far as Plymouth or Penzance for a trip."
"More's the pity, my lad. Think twiced of it, and don't you go wasting
your time ashore when there's such a profession as the sea opening of
its arms to you and a arstin of you to come. Look at your father:
there's a man!"
"Is he a very fine sailor?"
"Is he a fine sailor!" said the boatswain staring. "What a question to
ask! why, there aren't a better one nowhere. Think twiced on it, my
lad, and come all the way."
"I wish I could," said the boy to himself as he went back to the cabin,
to find his father already there; and half an hour later, after a little
joking about trying to sleep on a shelf in a cupboard, Mark clumsily
turned in, far too much excited by the events of the day to go to sleep,
and gradually getting so uneasy in the cramped space in which he had to
lie, that he came to the conclusion that it was of no use to try; and as
he lay thinking that he might as well get up and go and watch the
re-stowing of the cargo, he found himself down low in the darkness,
occupying the long triangular place from which the stowaway had been
dragged.
How hot and stifling it seemed, and yet how little he felt surprised at
being there, even when a strange dread came over him and he struggled to
escape, with the knowledge all the time that the sailors and dock
labourers were piling and ramming in cases and barrels, bales and boxes,
wedging him in so closely that he knew he should never get out. Every
minute his position grew more hopeless and the desire to struggle less.
Once or twice he did try, but his efforts were vain; and at last he lay
panting and exhausted and staring at the black darkness which suddenly
seemed to have grown grey.
Was he awake? Had he been to sleep? Where was he?
He realised it all like a flash. He was in that cramped berth in the
little cabin; and though he had not felt the approach of sleep, he must
have been fast for some hours and had an attack of nightmare, from which
he had awakened flat upon his back.
Mark uttered a sigh of relief, changed his position, lay looking at the
grey light of morning and listening to some faintly-heard sounds, and
then made up his mind to get up and dress.
Almost as a matter of course the result was that he dropped off fast
asleep, and lay till a pleasant familiar voice cried to him that
breakfast was nearly ready.
Getting off the shelf was nearly as difficult as getting upon it, but
Mark took his first lesson in a determined way, and entered the cabin
well rested and hungry just as the captain made his appearance.
"Oh, father, I feel so ashamed!" cried Mark.
"Why, my lad?"
"Sleeping comfortably there while you've been up at work all night."
"Nothing of the kind, my boy. Mr Morgan relieved us at three, and I've
had five hours' sleep since then. Here they come."
Mr Gregory and Mr Morgan entered the cabin directly, both looking as
calm and comfortable as if nothing had disturbed them. After the first
greetings the first-mate began to look round the cabin.
"What's wrong, Gregory?" said the captain.
"Wrong!" said the first-mate. "Nothing. I was only looking after that
dog."
"Why, surely you don't want to send him ashore?"
"Ashore, nonsense! Very fine dog, sir. I should like to have him. Ah,
there you are!"
For just then Bruff came slowly and sedately into the cabin from a walk
round the deck, and going straight up to the mate, blinked at him, and
gave his tail two wags before going under the table to lay his head in
his master's lap.
"Well, Morgan, how are you getting on?" asked the captain.
"Splendidly, sir. Quite like home to have a lady pouring out the
coffee."
"No, no; I mean with the cargo."
"Oh! I beg pardon, sir. All right. We're about where we were before
the accident."
"Ah, I thought we should be able to sail to-day, Gregory!"
"Humph!" said the first-mate. "I'll trouble you for a little more of
that fried ham, Captain Strong. Good ham, young Strong. I recommend
it."
Mark was already paying attention to it, and, well rested as he was,
thoroughly enjoyed his novel meal, and was soon after as eagerly
feasting upon the various sights and sounds of the deck.
For the next four hours all was busy turmoil. Passengers were arriving
with their luggage marked "For use in cabin," last packages of cargo
were being received, a couple of van-loads of fresh vegetables were shot
down upon the deck as if some one was about to start a green-grocer's
shop on the other side of the world, and the state of confusion
increased to such a degree that it seemed to Mark that order could never
by any possibility reign again. Wheels squeaked as ropes ran through
tackle, iron chains clanged; there was a continuous roaring of orders,
here, there, and everywhere; and at last, when the time for going out of
dock arrived, the deck was piled up in all directions with cargo and
luggage, and every vacant place was occupied by passengers, their
friends, dock people, and crew.
It seemed impossible for the tall three-masted ship to get out of that
dock through the narrow gates ahead and into the crowded river; but,
just about one o'clock, a man in blue came on board and took charge,
began shouting orders to men on the quay, ropes were made fast here and
there and hauled upon, and the great ship was in motion.
Before many minutes had elapsed she had glided majestically into a
narrow canal with stone walls, and from the high stern deck Mark saw
that a pair of great gates were closed behind them, as if the ship had
been taken in a trap. But no sooner was this achieved than another pair
of gates was opened before her bows, and the slow gliding motion was
continued till, almost before he knew it, the _Black Petrel_ East
Indiaman, Captain Strong, outward-bound for Colombo, Singapore, and
Hong-Kong, was out in the river without having crushed any other craft.
As she swung out there in the tide, a large unwieldy object which
threatened to come in contact with one or other of the many ships and
long black screws lying in the river, all of a sudden a little, panting,
puffing steamer came alongside and, amidst more shouting, ropes were
thrown and she was made fast, while another appeared off the _Black
Petrel's_ bows, where the same throwing of ropes took place, but this
time for a stout hawser to be fastened to the rope which had come
through the air in rings. Then the rope was hauled back, the stout
hawser dragged aboard, a great loop at its end placed over a hook on the
tug-boat, which went slowly ahead, the hawser tightened, slackened, and
splashed in the water, tightened and slackened again and again, till the
great steamer's inertia was overcome without the hawser being parted,
and kept by the tug at the side from swinging here and there, the great
ship went grandly down the Thames.
CHAPTER SEVEN.
HOW MARK HAD A SURPRISE.
Blackwall and Woolwich, Gravesend, and the vessel moored for the night.
There a few preliminaries were adjusted, and the next morning, with the
deck not quite in such a state of confusion, the vessel began to drop
down with the tide.
And now Mark woke to the fact that the captain was once more only a
secondary personage on board, the pilot taking command, under whose
guidance sails dropped down and the great ship gradually made her way in
and out of the dangerous shoals and sand-banks, till, well out to sea on
a fine calm day, the pilot-boat came alongside, and Captain Strong, as
the pilot wished him a lucky voyage, again took command.