My dreams were by no means of a pleasant nature.
How could they be, considering the life I was compelled to lead? With
my spirit hourly harassed by indignities, and my body wearied with
overwork, it is not likely I should have sweet dreams.
Though not sweet, however, they were short enough--at least my sleep was
so, for my eyes had not been closed above five minutes when I was rudely
awakened, not by a voice, but by a smart thwack upon the hips,
administered by no light hand, and with an instrument that I knew by the
feel to be what, in sailors' parlance, is called a "rope's end."
It needed no repetition of the stroke to awake me and cause me to start
to my feet; had it done so, I should certainly have caught it again as
sharply as before--for, on springing up, I saw the hand of the fellow
who had struck me raised aloft to repeat the blow. He did repeat it,
but my sudden rising spoiled his aim, and the rope's end doubled loosely
over my shoulders.
I was not a little astonished on recognising the ruffian. It was the
French bully--Le Gros!
I knew that he had the disposition to flog me with a rope's end, or
anything else--for he still harboured a heart full of malice against
me--I well knew that he was not wanting in the will; had we been in some
corner of the earth all alone by ourselves, I should not have been
astonished at him flogging me almost to death--not a bit of it. But
what surprised me was his daring to do so there and then. Ever since
Brace had thrashed him, he had been as mute as a mouse--morose enough
with me, but never offering any insult that might be resented by my
protector.
What had happened then to cause this change? Had he again fought with
Brace and beaten him? Or had my patron taken some offence at me and
withdrawn his protection, thus leaving the ruffian free to chastise me
for his own especial pleasure?
Surely some change must have taken place in our mutual relations, else
Le Gros would never have dared to raise his hand against me in the
manner he was doing?
Therefore was I surprised and puzzled--could it be that, finding me all
alone upon the top, he had taken the fancy into his head that he could
there give me a drubbing without being seen?
Surely that could not be his idea? If not seen, I could be heard. I
might easily cry out, so that my protector would hear me; or even if he
could not, I could tell him afterwards, and though that would not save
me from the drubbing it would get me the satisfaction of seeing Le Gros
catch one as well.
These reflections passed almost instantaneously through my mind--they
occupied only a few seconds--just the interval that elapsed from the
time I first stood to my feet till I recovered from the surprise I felt
at being confronted by the Frenchman. It was a short pause, for the
bully had again elevated the rope's end to come down with another
thwack.
I leaped to one side and partially avoided the blow, and then rushing in
towards the mast I looked down the lubber's hole to see if Brace was
below.
He was not visible, and I would have cried out for him, but my eyes at
that moment rested upon two objects and caused me to hold my voice. Two
individuals were upon the quarter-deck below, both looking upward. It
was not difficult to recognise them--the plump, jolly, false face of the
skipper and the more ferocious countenance of his coadjutor were not to
be mistaken. Both, as I have said, were looking upward, and the wicked
expression that danced in the round bullet eyes of the former, with the
grim smile of satisfaction that sat upon the lips of the latter, told me
at a glance that the Frenchman and I were the objects of their
attention.
The unlooked-for attack on the part of Le Gros was now explained:--he
was not acting for himself, but as the deputy of the others! it was
plain they had given him orders, and from the attitude in which they
stood, and the demoniac expression already noticed, I felt satisfied
that some new torture was intended for me.
I did not cry out for Brace, it would have been of no use. The brave
fellow could not protect me from tyrants like these. They were his
masters, with law on their side to put him in chains if he interfered,
even with his voice--to shoot or cut him down if he attempted to rescue
me.
I knew he dare not interrupt them, no matter what cruelty they might
inflict. It would be better not to get him into trouble with his
superiors, and, under these considerations, I held my tongue and awaited
the event. I was not kept long in doubt about their intentions.
"Hang the lazy lubber!" shouted the mate from below--"snoring in broad
daylight, eh? Wake him up with the rope's end, Frenchy! Wallop him
till he sings out!"
"No," cried the captain, to whom a better programme had suggested
itself. "Send him aloft! He seems fond of climbing up stairs. Drive
him to the garret! He wants to be a sailor--we'll make one of him!"
"Ha! ha!" rejoined the mate with a hoarse laugh at the wit of his
superior; "the very thing, by Jove! give him an airing on the
royal-yard!"
"Ay--ay!" answered Le Gros, and then, turning to me, with the rope held
in menace, he ordered me to ascend.
I had no alternative but obey, and, twisting myself around the topmast
shrouds, I caught the ratlins in my hands and commenced climbing upward.