A WARM RECEPTION.
We bowled along for half-an-hour, keeping a bright look-out for the
frigate, but we could see nothing of her.
"I say, Sprawl, had we not better heave-to, till daylight? You see we
can make nothing out as to her whereabouts; mind we do not run past her
in the night."
"Indeed, Lanyard, I think we had better--so heave-to at once, will ye?"
The word was passed; and after having given little Binnacle his
instructions to call him the instant they made out the frigate, or the
weather assumed a threatening aspect, Sprawl and I went below to secure
a couple of hours' sleep, troubled though they might be, before day
broke. We had just commenced on our salt junk, and having each of us
filled a glass of grog, I was in the very act of hobbing and nobbing
with my illustrious ally, when we heard some one call down the
after-hatchway. I instantly recognised the voice of Corporal Lennox.
"I say, Dogvane, do rouse out Mr De Walden--I know he is regularly done
up, but it is his watch, and unless he is on deck at muster, he will be
sure to catch it, and I should be sorry that he did."
"Why, master corporal," responded the quartermaster, "you might have
put yourself to the trouble of coming down yourself and awakening Mr De
Walden, and so you would have been under no obligation to nobody; but I
won't grudge the trouble, so I will do it for you."
"Hillo," we immediately heard old Dograne sing out, "on deck, there."
"What do you want?" replied Corporal Lennox.
"Oh, nothing, but Mr De Walden is not here."
"Never mind then, old fellow," said Lennox, "he is in the cabin, I
suppose."
Here little Binnacle struck in--"Why, Lennox, what are you bothering
about; did I not desire you to call Mr De Walden?"
"You did sir, but he is not below, unless he be in the cabin."
"Well, did you ask the captain's steward if he was there or not?"
"No, sir."
"Ask him now, then; and tell him to say to Mr De Walden that he is
wanted."
"I'll tell you what,"--(at this moment struck in old Davie),--"I am
deucedly done up, so tip me the case-bottle again, and I will make
another tumbler of grog, and then turn in till daylight--for even if we
make the frigate out, what use is there in"----
"Hush," said I, "what is that?" There was a buzz on deck, and a
rattling up the ladder of the people from below, and we could hear a
voice say, "Mr De Walden! he is not in the berth below,"--another
responded, "The captain's steward says he is not in the cabin."--"Is Mr
De Walden forward there, boatswain?"--"No," sung out a gruff voice,
sounding low, and mollified by distance,--"No Mr De Walden here."
"Is Mr De Walden aft there?" continued little Binnacle.
"No sir--no."
A sudden light flashed on me--I trembled, and a chill curdled the blood
at my heart, for I had not seen him since we had hove the schooner on
the reef. I ran on deck, but as I ascended the ladder, "Pooh," said I
to myself, "all nonsense--why put myself into a flurry?" And as I
stepped off the ladder, little Binnacle called down the main-hatchway--
"I say, De Walden--Henry--Henry De Walden--come on deck, man--come on
deck--this is no time for skylarking--Mr Lanyard is on deck."
Several gruff voices replied from below, "Mr De Walden is _not_ here,
sir."--"No Mr De Walden here."
The buzz increased--"Is Mr De Walden forward there?"
"No."
"Is he below?"
"No, sir, no--no Mr De Walden here."
Old Bloody Politeful, kind-hearted soul as he always was, had now also
turned out--"Why, Brail, what is all this bother about?"
"My dear Sprawl," said I, greatly excited, "young De Walden is nowhere
to be seen."
"Nonsense," rejoined he; "why, he was standing close beside me the
whole time we were crossing the bar, even up to the time when I was
fool enough to _squir_ my old hat over the masthead."
"And so he was," chimed in Pumpbolt.
"Then beat to quarters," said Mr Lanyard;--"the gallant youngster never
missed muster yet--Desire them to beat to quarters, Mr Marline."
"Ay, ay, sir," responded the midshipman. All hands turned out promptly.
"Men," said the lieutenant--"Mr De Walden is missing.--Have any of you
seen him?"
"No, sir,--none of us have seen him since the strange schooner struck."
"Have you overhauled the midshipmen's berth, Mr Marline?"
"Yes, sir."
"The whole ship has been searched," said little Binnacle, who had just
returned from below; "cable-tier, hold, and all. The boatswain and
carpenter have been all over her. The gunner has even looked into the
magazine. Mr De Walden _is not_ on board, sir."
"Poo, there he is at the masthead,--there," said I; for as I looked up
I distinctly saw, either with my bodily optic, or my mind's eye, I am
not quite certain which to this hour, a dark figure standing on the
long-yard, with one hand holding on by a backstay, while with the other
it pointed upwards into the pure sky. Old Dick at this was in a
towering passion. "Come down--Mr De Walden--come down. sir--what is
the fun of all this?--why, your absence has put the whole ship in a
fuss--we thought you had fallen overboard." The dark object remained
stock-still. "What _can_ the captain see?" passed amongst the men.
"Why, _I_ see nothing, but Mr Brail does," quoth _el señor teniente_.
"Do you see any thing at the masthead?" said one to his neighbour--"Do
_you_ see any thing?" quoth another. No one saw any thing but myself.
"Look there, Sprawl--there--by Heaven what can this mean--_do_ you
really see nothing there?" The worthy fellow shaded his eyes with his
hand, and kept twisting and turning and rolling his head about, as if
it had been fixed on the ball and socket principle; but the object that
had fascinated me was invisible to him. Gradually the figure, without
changing its position, _thinned_; and anon, as if it had been a shred
of dark vapour between us and the heavens, the stars were seen through
it; but the outline, to my distempered vision, was still as well
defined as ever. Presently, however, it began to grow indistinct and
misty; and, whatever it was, it imperceptibly melted away and
disappeared. _De Walden was nowhere to be found_. I looked back
towards the dark estuary we had left. The sky in the background was
heavy, black, and surcharged, as if it had been one vast thundercloud;
but the white line of breakers on the bar continued distinctly visible;
over which the heavenly moonlight rainbow still hovered, although
gradually fading; and even as I looked it ceased to be distinguishable.
As it disappeared in the surrounding blackness, even so vanished all
hope from my mind of young De Walden's safety: and remembering the poor
boy's last words--"A good omen!" said I, "Alas, alas, an evil one it
hath been to thee, poor boy!"
"Call the watch, boatswain's mate," said Lanyard; and without speaking
a word more, he, old Davie, and I descended to the cabin again.
"What saw you aloft, Benjie? tell us truly--none of your waking dreams,
you mongrel, half Scotchman, half Pat," said Sprawl.
I told him.
"I know it is downright nonsense--there was no one aloft, and I am
persuaded it was all a delusion; still"----
"Nonsense--to be sure it is all nonsense--regular moonshine, Benjie,"
said Davie--"cannot be--you are overfatigued, man--you will laugh at
all this to-morrow--but poor young De Walden--he must have fallen
overboard when we drove the Don on the reef. God help us--what a
melancholy report we shall have to make to Sir Oliver! but give us some
grog, Lanyard, you sticky old villain, and I will lie down on the
locker till daylight."
I was bewildered--my mind from my early youth was tinged with
superstition, but, nevertheless, what _could_ this have been? For
four-and-twenty hours, whatever I might have drank, I had eaten little
or nothing,--and I began to perceive that I laboured under the
oppressive effects of such a recoil as one experiences after having had
the folly and audacity to get tipsy on unaided champagne, without
having stowed away a ground tier of wholesome solid food; besides, I
now found that the blow on my head, hard and thick as that might be,
was beginning to tell; for I was aware that my pulse was feverish, and
I had had several attacks of giddiness during the evening. I puzzled
myself for half-an-hour in vain; at length I came to the conclusion, no
doubt the correct one, that it was a freak of the imagination. When I
raised my head from my hand, by which time the lamp was flickering in
the socket, I saw my friends sound asleep, so I was not long in
following their example, and worn out as I was, I soon forgot every
thing, and was as fast as they were.
I was awoke by the mate of the watch calling Mr Lanyard about half an
hour before daylight.
"We see the commodore, sir, about two miles on the lee-beam," said Mr
Marline, as he stuck his head into the cabin.
"Very well--I will be on deck presently--how is her head?"
"South-west, sir--but the wind is very light."
He retired--and Dick having rigged with an expedition unknown to all
mankind, _barring_ a sailor or a monkey, went on deck. A restless fit
had overtaken me, so I soon followed him.
It was now four in the morning--there were clouds in the sky, but very
little wind. In the east, all was clear--the morning star had already
slipt her moorings, and was several degrees above the horizon, against
which the rolling swell rose and sank as black as ink, except where the
glorious planet cast a tiny wake on it, glittering in a small line of
silver light; underneath, the glow of the advancing sun gradually
tinged the sky and every shred of clouds with a crimson flush.
On the other hand, when we looked down to leeward, far in the steamy
west, the declining moon hung over the dark sea pale and sickly, as a
lamp whose oil had failed. She looked as if she would have dropped at
once into the ocean, and the feeble wake she cast through the ascending
fog was dull and cheerless. There, however, in the very centre of her
half quenched radiance, lay the noble frigate, rolling heavily on the
long seas, under her three topsails; now rising distinct and clear
against the horizon on the ridge of the dark swell, and again sinking
on the liquid hills until she disappeared, as if the ever heaving
waters had swallowed her up. All overhead continued blue, and cold,
and serene.
"Mr Marline, bear up, and run down to her."
"Ay, ay, sir."
The deadening splash and gushing sound of the felucca's counter, as it
came surging down, while lying to, was soon, but gradually, exchanged
for the rushing of the water and buzzing of the foam past a vessel
rapidly cleaving the billows.
As we approached, all remained quiet and still on board the frigate.
We stood on--not a soul seemed to notice us--we crossed her
stern--still all silent, and at length we rounded to under her lee. We
were so close that one might have chucked a biscuit into her gangway.
"Are you waiting for a boat, Mr Lanyard?" at length said the officer of
the watch, the old gunner.
"No, no," he replied, "I will be on board presently."
Sprawl was roused out, and in a few seconds we were in our own tiny
skiff, and approaching the frigate. All continued dark and dismal, as
we looked up at her black hull, dark sails, and tall spars. She was
rolling heavily, the masts and yards groaning, the bulkheads creaking
and screaming, and the topsails fluttering and grumbling, until the
noise, every now and then, ended in a sounding thump, as if the old
ship, in all her parts, were giving audible indications of her
impatience of the tedious calm; while her stained canvass appeared to
be as heavy as if a wetting shower had just poured down. We
approached, and as the man in the bow stuck his boat-hook into the old
lady's side to fend off, the sidesman handed us the man-ropes, and
presently we were all three on the Gazelle's quarterdeck.
Every thing was wet and uncomfortable--the heavy dew was dripping down
from the shrouds and rigging, and every lumbering flap of the topsails
sent a cold shower pattering on deck. The watch had all roused out
from the booms, and were clustered on the hammock cloths, looking down
on us. When we got on deck, they followed us as far aft as they
thought they might venture to do, while others again had hung
themselves in a variety of ways over the side to get the marrow of our
secret out of our boat's crew. The old gunner was arrayed in his
pea-jacket and blue trowsers, as if he had been in the North Sea; and
the red sparkle of the light in the binnacle glanced on the face and
chest of the sunburned seaman at the wheel.
"How is Sir Oliver, and Mr Garboard, and Mr Donovan?"
Any man who has lived in such a climate will evince no wonder at the
anxiety and rapidity with which the questions were put.
"Why, all pretty well," said the gunner. "Sir Oliver, indeed, has been
ill, but is now better--and Mr Garboard is nearly all right again; he
took the forenoon watch yesterday, sir. But as for Mr Donovan, why,
sir,"----
"Never mind, never mind," said Sprawl; "send down to Sir Oliver, and
say that we have got on board."
The man dived, and presently brought a message that Sir Oliver desired
to see us in his cabin.
We descended; a solitary lamp hung from the deck above, and lit up the
large cabin any thing but brilliantly. It had the appearance of having
been newly lit, and wanting oil,--for when we first entered it was
flaring up like a torch, but gradually declined until we could scarcely
see about us. As you have not been below before, I will describe it.
The cabin was very large, even for a vessel of her class, and was not
subdivided in any way. There were four guns, long twenty-fours, two of
a side, but the devil a stick of furniture in it, with the exception of
the table in the middle, and six or seven chairs, two black hair sofas,
one on each side of the cabin, a chest of drawers, and the crimson
curtains before the stern windows. The portrait of a lady was the only
ornament, a buxom-looking dame, but of the Earth earthly, nothing
etherial about her.
The commodore's cot hung well aft, near the small door that opened into
the quarter-gallery on the starboard side--the bed-clothes were all
disarranged as if he had recently risen; and at first we thought he
must have left the cabin as we came down, and walked forward on the
main-deck.
"Where is the commodore?" said Lanyard to the captain's steward, who
accompanied us with a light, but which had been blown out by the
opening of the cabin door.
"I left him in the cabin, sir--I suppose he is there still, sir."
By this time the ruddy east was brightening; the light that shone
through the stern windows came in aid of the dim lamp, and we saw a
figure, Sir Oliver as we conceived, stretched on one of the sofas that
stood between the aftermost gun and the quarter-gallery door, on the
larboard side. The man brought two candles and placed them on the
table. Both Sprawl and myself had been rather surprised that the
commodore did not instantly address us as we entered, but we now
noticed that the gallant old fellow was very pale and wan, and that he
spoke with difficulty, as if he had been labouring under asthma.
"Welcome, gentlemen--glad to see you back again. I am prepared to hear
that you have failed in your object--quite prepared; but I have been
down ever since you shoved off, and am far from well yet."
He rose and shook hands with us with all his usual cordiality of manner.
"Sit down, gentlemen,--there--sit down. Howard, get coffee."
It was handed.
"Well, Master Brail--you have had enough of piloting and cutting out,"
said he, endeavouring to appear cheery and unconcerned--"curiosity
quite satisfied I daresay." I was about replying when he continued,
addressing the lieutenants.
"You have had some fighting, I suppose--indeed, we heard the firing
distinctly enough."
"Yes, commodore," said Sprawl, "enough and to spare of that; but, as
you have guessed, we were unable to bring out the polacre--she now lies
sunk in the river."
"Well, well," rejoined Sir Oliver, "I will hear the particulars by and
by; but I hope you have not lost any, at least not _many_ of the
people--none killed I hope?--this horrible climate will leave few of us
for gunpowder soon--none killed I hope?--a few wounded, of course, I
bargain for"----
Sprawl was silent for a minute, and then handed him the
return.--"Indeed, Sir Oliver," said he, "I am grieved to tell you that
it has been a bad business; we have lost several excellent men, and our
doctor's list is also heavy; however, all the wounded are likely to do
well."
The commodore took the paper in his nervous hand, and as he read the
official account of our adventure, it shook violently, and his pale lip
quivered, as he exclaimed from time to time--"God bless me, how
unfortunate! how miserably unfortunate! But, gentlemen, you deserve
all praise--you have behaved nobly, gallantly. I have no heart,
however, to read the return. You have had how many killed?" turning to
Lanyard.
He mentioned the number.
"And wounded?"
He also gave him the information he desired in this respect.
"Merciful Heaven!" groaned the excellent man--"but it cannot be
helped--it cannot be helped. Pray," said he, the tone of his voice
changed--I noticed it quavered, and he seemed to screw his words
through his clenched teeth with difficulty,--all of which surprised me
a good deal--"none of the boys--the young gentlemen--none of the
midshipmen are hurt, or"----
He seemed afraid to pronounce the word "killed." Sprawl looked at
Lanyard. He saw that he hung in the wind.
"Why, no, sir," said he. "Why, no, none of them seriously hurt."
"Nor killed?" said the commodore, affecting to be at ease, as he lay
back on his sofa; "I am glad of it--I thank heaven for it. But really
I am so weak from this confounded complaint!"
"No, sir," continued old Davie, "none of the midshipmen are either
killed or wounded, but Mr De Walden"----
He suddenly raised himself into a sitting position, and the increasing
daylight, that streamed through the stern windows, and the scuttle
overhead, showed that he was paler than ever; the ague of his lip
increased, and his whole frame trembled violently, as he said in a weak
nervous voice--"Mr De Walden, did you say? what of him? You just now
said _none_ of the young gentlemen were either killed or wounded." And
he looked first at Sprawl, then at Dick, and lastly at me, but all of
us were so taken aback by such unusual and unaccountable conduct, that
for a second or two we could make no answer.
At length Lanyard rallied his wits about him. "You are right, sir,
none of the midshipmen were hurt, but Mr de Walden"----
"Mr de Walden again!--what can you mean? Speak out, for the love of
mercy"--and he seized his arm, and then shrunk away again, and held up
his hand, as if he could not stand the hearing of what he might utter.
"Don't say it, Mr Lanyard; don't, if you regard me, say it;" and he lay
back, and held both hands on his eyes, and sobbed audibly.
Sprawl and I again exchanged looks, but neither of us could find it in
our hearts to speak.
At length the old man made a violent effort at composure,--"Gentlemen,
you will pardon me; disease has broken me down, and fairly unhinged me;
and I could, as you see, cry like a woman. I had, indeed, a very
peculiar cause for loving that poor boy, I fancy, God help me"--here
the large tears streamed over his old cheeks, that had stood the
washing up of many a salt spray--"that I see him now!"
"Where?" said I, like honest Horatio, somewhat startled. He did not
notice the interruption.
"I believe he had not an enemy in the world; I am sure he will be
lamented by every man and officer in the ship, poor young fellow. But
come, gentlemen, enough and to spare of this"--and he rose up, and
strode across the cabin, speaking with a forced composure, as we could
easily perceive. "We must all die, in a sick bed or in action--either
on shore or at sea; and those who, like him, fall while fighting
gallantly, are better off than others who drag through a tedious and
painful disease. This is trite talking, gentlemen; but it is
true--God's will be done! Peace be with him, poor boy; peace be with
him."
Thinking he was mad, I several times tried to break in, and disburden
my mind of the whole story; but he always waved me down impatiently,
and continued to walk backwards and forwards very impetuously.
At length he made a full stop, and looked earnestly in the first
lieutenant's face--"He behaved gallantly, and died nobly?--all his
wounds in the front?"
I could allow this to go on no longer. "Why, Sir Oliver, young De
Walden is not killed, so far as we know."
He gasped--caught my arm convulsively--and burst into a weak hysterical
laugh--"Not dead?"
"No, sir; none of us can say that he is dead. He did indeed behave
most gallantly through the whole affair; but"----
"But what?" said he--his eyes sparkling, his brows knit, and his
features blue and pinched, as if he had seen a spectre--"But what, Mr
Brail? for God Almighty's sake, tell me the worst at once."
"Sir Oliver, he is _missing_."
His hands dropped by his side, as if suddenly struck with palsy; his
jaw fell, and his voice became hollow, tremulous, and indistinct, as if
the muscles of his lips and tongue had refused to do their office.
When he spoke, it seemed as if the words had been formed in his
chest--"_Missing!_"
"Yes, Sir Oliver," said Sprawl, utterly thunderstruck at his superior's
conduct--"Mr De Walden is _missing_."
The old man staggered, and would have fallen, had he not caught hold of
the scroll head of the sofa. I thought he had fainted, but he
gradually recovered himself, and stood erect. There was a long pause.
At length he made a step towards us, and said, with an expression of
the most bitter irony--"So, gentlemen, Mr De Walden _is missing_; the
only officer _missing_ is a poor young midshipman; a prisoner amongst
these savages, forsooth; a prisoner! Oh, God! I could have brooked
hearing of his death;--but a prisoner, and in the power of such an
enemy! I bless Heaven, that his poor mother has been spared this
misery--would that I had also been in my grave before--But, but"--his
tone suddenly became fierce and threatening, and he raised his hand
close to my face. I thought he would have struck me--"But how came it,
Mr Brail--Mr Sprawl and Mr Lanyard there, I see, are both
scathless--but you have been wounded, so I will speak to you--How came
it, sir, that he is missing? He must have been deserted,
sir--forsaken--left to his fate--and such a fate!--while you, my worthy
lieutenants," here he turned round fiercely on his two subalterns,
"were wisely looking out for a sound skin and safety."
We were all so utterly taken by surprise at this furious climax to what
we began to consider the commodore's insanity, that neither the first
lieutenant, Lanyard, nor myself, notwithstanding all that had passed,
could speak; which gave Sir Oliver time to breathe and continue in the
same tone of fiendlike acerbity--"If I live, you shall both answer for
this before a court-martial. Yes; and if you escape there, _you shall
not escape me_."
"Commodore--Sir Oliver," said Sprawl, deeply stung; "by Heaven, Sir
Oliver, you will make me forget who I am, and where I am. You do _me_,
you do Mr Lanyard, and the whole of the party engaged, exceeding
injustice--the grossest injustice; but I will leave the cabin; I dare
not trust myself any longer. I have served with you, Sir Oliver, for
seven years, in three different ships, and, to my knowledge, we have
never, until this moment, had an angry word together"--and here the
noble fellow drew himself up proudly--"and I will yet put it to you
yourself, when you _are_ yourself, whether in all that time you ever
knew me failing in my duty to my king and country--whether, during the
whole seven years, you, sir--ay, or any man in the ships we have served
in together--can now lay, or ever attempted to lay, any action or deed
at my door derogatory to my character as an officer, or that in any the
smallest degree sullied my reputation as a gentleman."
This unlooked-for spunk on old Davie's part startled me, and evidently
made a strong impression on the excited nerves of the old commodore;
especially as Sprawl followed it up, by slowly adding, while the tears
hopped over his iron visage--"But, if it is to be so, I will save you
the trouble, Sir Oliver, of _bringing_ me to a court-martial"--he
paused for a good space--"Sir Oliver Oakplank, I _demand_ it."
The commodore had by this lain down again on the sofa, with his head
resting on the pillow, and his arms clasped on his breast, as if he had
been an effigy on a tombstone. For a minute he did not utter a
word--at length--"David Sprawl, man and boy, I have known you
five-and-twenty years; that your promotion has not kept pace with your
merits I regret, almost as much as you yourself can do; but, in the
present instance, you knew I had been ill, and at your hands I had
expected more"----
"I could not help it, Sir Oliver--I had looked for other things; but
mine has been a life of disappointment."
Sir Oliver rallied, and rose, ill as he was, and, stepping up to him,
he laid hold of old Bloody Politeful's large bony hand--"Mr Sprawl,
I--I beg pardon--illness and anxiety, as I said before, have broke me
down; to you and Mr Lanyard I offer my apology; as brave men I know you
won't refuse it; bad health is my excuse;--but neither of you can
imagine the ties that bound me to that beautiful--that most excellent
young man, Henry De Walden."
Dick now thought it was his turn, and made a rally--"Why, Sir Oliver, I
am sure that neither Mr Sprawl nor myself would yield, even to you, in
regard for him." He shook his head. "Indeed, sir, we both knew the
poor boy well; and"--here he plucked up more courage, determined in his
own mind apparently that he would clap a stopper on their being ridden
rough-shod over in this sort of way--but the commodore, far from
showing fight, quietly allowed him to say out his say--"We both knew
him well--a finer or a braver lad never stepped; and I fancy, when I
say so, I answer not only for Mr Sprawl and myself, but for every man
who was with us in this ill-fated expedition. Had his rescue depended
on our devoting ourselves, you may rely on it, Sir Oliver, either we
should not have been here to tell the story, or _he_ would have been
alive to tell his own."
The commodore once more lay back on the sofa, covering his face with
his hands--"Go on, Mr Lanyard--go on."
"Why, sir, he was with us, safe and sound, until we crossed the bar. I
heard him sing out, 'a good omen--a good omen!' just as we jammed the
Spanish schooner that had waylaid us, right down on the bank, in the
very middle of the bar; but from that very instant of time no man in
the ship saw or heard any thing of him."
The old commodore appeared to be screwing up and gathering all his
energies about him.
"Never saw him!--what--did he fall overboard? Tell me--tell me--_did_
he fall overboard?"
"None of us saw him fall overboard, sir;" said I, desirous of making a
diversion in favour of my friends, "but after that moment I never saw
him alive."
"Alive!" echoed the commodore--"Alive! Did you see him dead, then?"
"No, sir, I think with you he must have gone overboard." There was a
long and most irksome pause; at length the commodore broke it.
"Well, well, Benjamin, it cannot be helped, it cannot be helped."
Desirous of preventing another lull in the conversation, I hinted to
the commodore that I had been subjected to a very strange delusion of
the senses in passing the bar.
"Ay, indeed," said he, with a faint smile--"second sight, I
presume--your Scotch star has been in the ascendant--but come, tell the
whole story at once."
"I have told it before to Mr Sprawl, Sir Oliver; but really, on
reflection, I have some scruples about recapitulating such nonsense at
length again."
"Tell it," said Sir Oliver, looking at me with his lack-lustre
eye--"tell it."
"Then, sir, I will, although I am quite prepared to be laughed at." I
made a pause, for, to say the truth, I was really disinclined to say
more on the subject, which I now regretted I had broached; but he
waited for me. "We had just cleared the bar, sir, when, on looking up,
to see how the sail drew, I saw, holding on by the main haulyards, and
with his feet spread out on our long lateen yard, a figure between me
and the moonlight sky, as like Mr De Walden's as one could fancy any
thing."
"Pray, did any other person see it?"
"No, sir, I don't believe any one else saw it."
"Then," continued the commodore, "it must have been all fancy. How had
you lived that morning?"
"Why, sir, I was weak from want of food--indeed fairly worn out. Yet
that the object was as palpable to me as if it had really been there,
there is no disputing. I was startled at the time, I will confess;
but"--here my superstitious feelings again began to rise up,--"he was
never seen afterwards."
"Then your simple and entire opinion is--_that he is gone_?" We bowed
our heads in melancholy acquiescence. "Never mind then," said Sir
Oliver. "Never mind, God's blessed will be done. But, gentlemen, come
and breakfast with me at half past eight." And we found ourselves
straightway on deck again.
"I say, friend Sprawl," said I, so soon as we arrived at the upper
regions--"have patience with me once more, and tell me seriously, what
think you of me as a ghost seer; how do _you_ account for the figure
that I saw at the masthead?"
"In this very simple way, Benjie, as I told you before, that, at the
best, you are an enthusiast; but in the present instance, being worn
out by fatigue and starvation, you really and truly fancied you saw
what was uppermost in your mind, and, so far as your excited fancy was
concerned,--why, you _did_ see it. But come down below--come down
below. Let us go and rig for our appearance before the commodore. So
come along." And straight we dived into the gunroom.
I had, verily, as my excellent friend Sprawl said, been much excited,
and while we were below, I had time to gather my thoughts about me. My
first feeling was, that I had done very foolishly in telling my absurd
story to the commodore; my second, that I had, which was really the
simple fact, been imposed on by a false impression on my senses.
"Donovan, my darling," said I, addressing our friend, who was lying in
his berth close to us, "I can forgive you now for being mad a bit,
Dennis, dear."
"Come now, Brail, no quizzing, if you please; I am deuced weak yet."
We made our toilet, and presently we were in the cabin again. Sir
Oliver, when we entered, was sitting at the breakfast table. He had
dressed; and although he was still very pale, there was nothing
peculiar in his manner, if it were not that he was, if any thing,
kinder than usual. He led the conversation as far away from the recent
expedition as he decently could, until breakfast was nearly over, when
he suddenly addressed me. "Do you think, Mr Brail, since _you_ saw him
last, that there is any, the remotest chance of that poor boy being
alive? Would it, in your opinion, be of any avail our hovering off the
coast for a few days, and sending in the boats occasionally?"
I looked at old Bloody Politeful, who thereupon took the word up.
"No, commodore, I believe the poor boy is gone. I conceive it would be
lost time remaining here in the hope of his being alive."
"Enough, enough," said Sir Oliver. And from that time forth, he
_never_, in my hearing at least, mentioned his name.