"This is a terrible business, Brace," said Sir Humphrey.
"Yes; it quite puts a damper upon our plans."
"Seems like a suggestion of unknown horrors of a similar kind which will
dog our footsteps all through."
"Don't say that, Free," said Brace earnestly. "I know it is terrible;
but it might have happened under any circumstances. You talk as if it
was to do away with our expedition."
"I'm afraid it will as far as Captain Banes is concerned, my lad. He is
sure to back out of it now."
"I'm afraid so too," said Brace sadly; "but only for a few days."
"I don't know, my boy: sailors are very superstitious and fond of
looking upon things as omens. It is very sad, for that second mate was
a smart, intelligent fellow, and I looked forward to his taking an
interest in our work and being our companion in many a pleasant trip."
"Oh, it's horrible," said Brace bitterly. "So well and strong only
yesterday when seeing to our cases and luggage, and now--"
"Dead," said Sir Humphrey sadly, "and--"
"Boat ahoy!" shouted one of the men, drawing attention to a canoe
paddled by a black, coming down with the tide in mid-stream, and only a
few hundred yards above where the brig swung from her chain cable, which
dipped down from her bows into the muddy water.
At the hail a second man; a white, with a coloured handkerchief tied
about his head, rose up in the stern of the fragile vessel, snatched off
the handkerchief to wave it above his head, and nearly capsized the
canoe, only saving it by dropping down at once.
"Ugh!" yelled one of the crew, a big bronzed fellow of six- or
seven-and-twenty, and, turning sharply round, he upset one of his mates
as he made for the forecastle hatch, but was hindered from going below
by the brothers, who were standing between him and the opening.
"What is it, Tommy, mate?" shouted one of the men.
"Look, look!" groaned the scared sailor. "His ghost--his ghost!"
In an instant the rest of the men took fright and shrank away from the
bows, to hang together in a scared-looking group, the first man,
addressed as Tommy, holding one hand to his mouth as if to check his
chattering teeth.
"Stand by there with a rope," came from the boat; but not a man stirred,
and just then the captain and mate came trotting up from aft.
"Here, what's the matter, my lads?" cried the former.
"Master Lynton's ghost, sir," stammered the trembling sailors.
"Mr Lynton's grandmother!" roared the captain, snatching up a coil of
rope and flinging it to the bareheaded man in the boat, who caught it
deftly as it opened out in rings. "Here, what do you mean by that
cock-and-bull story, Dick Dellow?"
"Cock-and-bull?" stuttered the mate, scratching his head.
"Yes, cock-and-bull," roared the captain. "Can't you see he's there,
all alive, oh! in that canoe? Here, you, Tom Jinks, lay hold of this
rope, and don't stand making faces there like a jibbering idiot. Catch
hold."
"No, no," faltered the great sailor; "it's his--"
"Catch hold!" roared the captain; "if any man here says ghost to me, law
or no law, I'll rope's-end him."
The big sailor's hands trembled as he took the rope, but before he had
given it a pull one occupant of the canoe came scrambling on board with
the other end of the rope in his hand, while the canoe, now lightened of
half its load, glided astern, with the black paddling hard.
"There's going to be a row," whispered Brace merrily to his brother, as
they stood there, feeling as though a great weight had been removed from
their breasts. He was quite right, for before the supposed drowned man
had taken a couple of steps the captain was at him.
"Here, you, sir," he roared, "do you want to have sunstroke? Where's
your hat?"
"I dunno," was the reply.
"Here," shouted the captain, who was in a towering passion, "where's
that Tom Jinks?"
"Here he is, sir; here he is, sir," cried half a dozen voices, and the
men opened out to give him a full view of the trembling sailor.
"Now, sir, what call had you to tell us that you had brought Mr Lynton
aboard last night?"
"So we did--didn't we, mate?"
This to another of the sailors, who was staring hard at the new-comer.
"Oh, yes, we fetched him off in the little boat," said the man
addressed.
"No, you didn't," said the second mate sourly.
"Well!" exclaimed Tom Jinks, who began to see now that it was real flesh
and blood before him. "Why, we did, and you was--well, I ain't going to
say what. Wasn't he, mate?"
"Oh, yes, that's a true word," said the other man.
"You don't know what you're talking about," said the second mate
indignantly; "and if either of you says that I was on I'll knock you
down."
"No, you won't, James Lynton," said the captain warmly. "You don't
handle either of my men. Look here, did you come aboard last night in
the boat?"
"No, of course not."
"Then who did?" cried the captain. "The men must have brought
somebody."
"Oh, yes," said Tom Jinks, "we brought him aboard."
"I say you didn't," cried Lynton. "I went to sleep, I s'pose, after
dinner, and I didn't wake up again till this morning."
"Then you ought to be ashamed of yourself, James Lynton," said the
captain indignantly.
"I _ham_," cried the second mate boldly: "right down, and no mistake."
"A warning to you not to go out eating and drinking more than is good
for you," said the captain.
"I didn't," replied the mate. "I took just what was good for me, and no
more."
"It seems like it," said the captain sarcastically. "Instead of coming
aboard in your own ship's boat according to the terms of your leave, you
come back in a dug-out after your vessel's sailed, and without a hat."
"Yes, I know," said the mate testily; "but didn't I tell you I felt
ashamed of myself? Eh? what say?"
"Is this here yours?" said the first mate, who had suddenly gone below
to the cabin, and returned with a straw hat in his hand.
"Yes, that's mine. How did you get it?"
"You came aboard in it last night."
"I didn't," cried the second mate, who looked staggered.
"Oh, yes, you did, sir," cried Tom Jinks. "Didn't he, mate?"
"That's so," said the man addressed.
"But I tell you I didn't. I went to sleep after dinner, and didn't wake
till this morning, and found the brig had sailed."
"Of course she had--to her time," said the captain angrily. "He don't
know what he's talking about, gentlemen," he continued, turning to the
brothers. "I'm very sorry, but I'm not going to have any more time
wasted. Now then, my lads, capstan bars, and bring that anchor up with
a run. You, James Lynton," he went on, as the men ran to obey their
orders, "I'm ashamed of your goings-on. What have you been about?
Walking in your sleep, I suppose."
"I dunno," said the second mate, scratching one ear. "I can only
recollect Mr Franklyn Briscoe saying--"
"Mr Who?" roared the captain.
"That American gentleman who wanted to come with us."
"You don't mean to say you've been with that inquisitive chap, do you,
sir?"
"Yes. What harm was there in that?"
"What harm? Look at you this morning."
"Oh, well, I don't know how it was," said the mate.
"Then I'll tell you how it was, sir. It was my second officer making an
excuse to go ashore, and getting into bad company. But never no more,
James Lynton: never no more. You don't deceive me twice like this."
"It was all an accident," grumbled the delinquent.
"Yes, of course, and a nice state we were in, believing that after you
came aboard you fell over the side and were drowned."
"You didn't think that, did you?" cried Lynton.
"Didn't think it? Why, of course we did, sir. Didn't I come to an
anchor as soon as I found you were not aboard?"
"I don't know," said Lynton, looking from one to the other.
"Then you know now, sir. Pretending to me that you were going to a
dinner--_eating_."
"So I was," cried the mate.
"Not you, sir. Going somewhere drinking."
"That I wasn't. Mr Franklyn Briscoe came and asked me to go and have a
bit of dinner with him."
"What! that American?" cried the captain.
"Yes."
"Then that makes worse of it."
"There, I don't know: bad or worse," said the mate. "All I know is that
I went to sleep after dinner, and when I woke up he was gone and I
couldn't find my hat."
The first mate exchanged glances with the captain, who spoke out at
once.
"Then how did your hat come on board, sir?"
"I don't know, I tell you, captain," cried Lynton. "All I know is that
as soon as I woke up I went half-mad, and ran down to the river, to find
you'd sailed without me; and then I got that black fellow to paddle me
down after you in his canoe."
"And a deal of good that would have been if I hadn't anchored," growled
the captain. "There, sir, get to your duties, and let's have no more of
it."
"But I want to clear my character, captain, before the crew and these
two gentlemen."
"You hold your tongue, my lad, or you'll be making worse of it."
"But there's some mystery about it," said the mate warmly. "Yes, I can
see you nodding and winking, Dellow, and making signs to the men. Here
you, Tom Jinks, you said I came on board last night?"
"Yes, me and my mate here rowed you aboard; didn't we, mate?"
"Ay, ay, lad," was the reply, and their questioner banged his right fist
down into his left palm as if to get rid of some of his rage.
"There," he cried, "have it your own way, all of you; but you don't
catch me going ashore to dine with a gentleman again."
"No," said the captain sharply, "I shan't. Now then, look alive there."
The anchor was soon after swinging from the bows, the sails filled, and
the brig began to glide down with the stream, and by the time the cabin
breakfast was at an end the banks of the muddy river were growing
distant, and various signs pointed to the fact that they were
approaching the open sea. That evening, with a gentle breeze from the
north sending them swiftly along, the low coast-line looked dim and
distant across the muddy waters, the mighty rivers discolouring the sea
far away from land, and, glass in hand, Brace was seated in a deck chair
trying to make out some salient point of the South American coast.
Then all at once something dark eclipsed the picture formed by the
glass, and Brace Leigh lowered it suddenly from his eye to try and make
out what it was. He found that it was the second mate's head.