"How's her head?" exclaimed Captain Dinks, the moment his genial, rosy,
weather-beaten face appeared looming above the top-rail of the companion
way that led up to the poop from the saloon below, the bright mellow
light of the morning sun reflecting from his deep-tanned visage as if
from a mirror, and making it as radiant almost as the orb of day.
"West-sou'-west, sorr," came the answer, ere the questioner could set
foot on the deck, in accents short, sharp, prompt, and decisive, albeit
with a strong Milesian flavour, from the chief mate. He was the officer
of the watch, and was standing alongside the man at the wheel on the
weather-side of the ship, with a telescope under his arm and a keen look
of attention in his merry, twinkling grey eyes.
"Ha-hum!" muttered the captain to himself reflectively. "I wish the
wind would shift over more to the nor'ard, and we'd then be able to
shape a better course; we're going far too much to the west to please
me! I suppose," he added in a louder tone, addressing the mate again,
"she isn't making any great way yet since daylight, McCarthy, eh?"
"No, sorr, leastways, Captain Dinks," replied that worthy, a genuine
thorough-going Irishman, "from the crown of his head to the sole of his
fut," as he would have said himself, and with a shaggy head of hair and
beard as red as that of the wildest Celt in Connemara, besides being
blessed with a "brogue" as pronounced as his turned-up nose--on which
one might have hung a tea-kettle on an emergency, in the hope that its
surroundings would supply the requisite fire and fuel for boiling
purposes. "No, sorr, no way at all at all, sure! Not more'n five
knots, cap'en honey, by the same token, the last time we hove the log at
six bells, bad cess to it!"
"Everything drawing, too, slow and aloft!" said the captain, with just a
shade of discontent in his cheery voice, as he took in with a quick,
sailor-like glance the position of the ship and every detail of the
swelling pyramids of canvas that towered up on each mast from deck to
sky--the yards braced round sharp, almost fore and aft, the huge square
sails flattened like boards, the tremulous fluttering of the flying jib,
and occasional gybing of the spanker, showing how close up to the wind
the vessel was being steered. "You couldn't luff her a bit more,
McCarthy, could you?" he added, after another glance at the compass and
a murmured "steady!" to the steersman.
"Not a ha'porth, sorr," replied the mate sorrowfully, as if it went to
his heart to make the announcement. "I had the watch up only jist a
minit ago; an' if you'll belave me, Cap'en Dinks, we've braced up the
yards to the last inch the sheets will run, bad cess to thim!"
"Well, well, I suppose we'll have to put up with it; though it's rather
disheartening to have this sou'-wester right in one's teeth before we
have cleared the Chops of the Channel, after all our good luck in having
so fair a wind down with us from the Nore!"
The captain still spoke somewhat disconsolately; but, his temperament
was of too bright and elastic a nature to allow him long to look merely
on the dark side of things. Soon, he saw something to be cheerful over,
in spite of the adverse influence of Aeolus; and this was, as it
appeared to him, the wonderful progress the ship was making, although
sailing, close-hauled as she was, with the wind right before the beam.
"Now, isn't she a beauty, though, McCarthy," he said presently, with a
sort of triumphant ring in his speech, after gazing for a few moments in
silence over the taffrail astern at the long foaming wake the vessel was
leaving behind her, spread out like a glittering silver fan across the
illimitable expanse of greenish-tinged water. "Isn't she a beauty to
behave as she does under the circumstances! There are not many ships
laden like her that would make five knots out of a foul wind, as she is
now doing, eh?"
"That there ain't, sorr," promptly returned the other with hearty
emphasis, only too glad to have the opportunity of agreeing with his
skipper. "An' jist you wait, sorr, till we get into the nor'-east
trades; an' by the powers we'll say the crathur walk away from us, like
one of thim race-horses on the Skibbereen coorse whin you're a standin'
still and a watchin' thim right foreninst you."
"Aye, that we will, McCarthy," chimed in Captain Dinks, now all good
humour again, chuckling with anticipated pleasure and rubbing his hands
together gleefully. "I wouldn't wish for a better ship under me in fair
wind or foul than the _Nancy Bell_. Bless her old timbers, she's
staunch and sound from truck to keelson, and the smartest clipper that
ever sailed out of the London Docks--when she has anything like decent
weather!"
"That she is, sorr, plaze the pigs!" chorused the Irishman to this paean
of praise, which might have run on to an interminable length if it had
not been just then interrupted by the mate's suddenly raising his gilt-
banded cap in nautical salute to a new-comer, who now appeared on the
scene.
Captain Dinks, at once "cutting short" any further rhapsodical encomiums
he may have contemplated anent the merits of the _Nancy Bell_, turned
round.
"Ah, good morning, Mr Meldrum," said he in cordial tones, raising his
cap politely like his chief officer. "You are early on deck: an old
sailor, I presume!"
"Good morning, Captain Dinks," smilingly replied the gentleman
addressed, one of the few saloon passengers who patronised the cuddy of
the New Zealand clipper on her present voyage. He had only just that
moment come up from below, tempted to turn out by the genial brightness
of the lovely June morning; and, as he emerged from the companion
hatchway, he bent his steps along the poop towards the binnacle, by
which the captain and his aide-de-camp were standing. "Yes," he
continued, in answer to the former's question, "I have had a voyage or
two in my time, and one is accustomed to keep early hours at sea."
"Begorrah, ye're right, sorr!" ejaculated the Irish mate, with an
empressment that showed his earnestness. "An' a dale too airly for some
ov us sometimes. Sure, an' a sailor's loife is a dog's loife entirely!"
"Shut up, you old humbug!" said the captain with a laugh, turning to the
passenger; "Why, to hear him you would think McCarthy to be one of those
lazy lubbers who are never content unless they are caulking below,
snoozing their wits away whilst the sun is scorching their eyes out;
whereas, he's the most active and energetic seaman I ever met with in
all my experience at sea, man and boy, for the last thirty years. Look
you, Mr Meldrum, he never waits to be roused out by any chance when
it's his watch on deck; while, should the weather be at all nasty, you
really can't get him to go below and turn in--it is `spell ho' with him
with a vengeance, night and day alike!"
"Don't you belave his blarney, sorr," put in the mate eagerly, bursting
into a roar of merriment, although blushing purple with delight the
while at the skipper's compliment. "Why, sorr, whin I go to slape
sometimes, the divil himself couldn't wake me!"
"Ah!" rejoined Captain Dinks, "that may be when you're ashore, Tim, but
I know what you are when you're aboard ship and duty calls! I don't
forget, old man, how, under Providence," and this the captain added
reverently, taking off his cap and looking up to heaven as he spoke,
"you saved the _Nancy Bell_ on our last voyage home--no, Tim, I don't
forget!"
"Aye, aye, Cap'en Dinks," replied the other, not to be beaten, "true for
you, sorr; but, where was yoursilf the whilst, I'd like to know, and
what could I have done without your hilp sure, wid all your
blatheration?"
"Nonsense, Tim," returned the captain, giving the mate a slap on the
back which must have taken his breath away for the moment, as it made
him reel again, and then holding out his hand, which the other grasped
with a vice-like grip, in a paw that resembled more in size and shape a
leg of mutton than anything else--"Tip us your fist, my hearty, and let
us say no more about it!"
It would have done anyone's heart good to see the way in which these two
brave men--sailors both every inch of them--then looked each other
straight in the eyes, a smile of satisfaction illumining their faces, as
if each had reason to be proud of the other, their hands locked in a
friendly clasp that was true to the death!
As for Mr Meldrum, the passenger, who was a delighted observer of the
good feeling existing between the captain and second in command of the
vessel in which, like Caesar, he had "embarked himself and all his
fortunes," and was now journeying across the surface of the deep--a good
feeling that was fairly indicative of everything going well on the
voyage--he was so carried away by the spirit of the moment that he felt
inclined to ask that the general hand-shaking might be "passed round for
the good of the crowd." What is more, he immediately put his "happy
thought" into execution; whereupon, much fist-squeezing ensued between
the trio, the steersman looking on with a grin of complacency at the
fraternal exhibition, and gripping the spokes of the wheel more firmly,
as it were, out of a sort of fellow-sympathy, as he kept the ship "full
and by!"
"Tim McCarthy and I are old shipmates," said Captain Dinks presently, as
if apologising for the little ebullition of sentiment that had just
taken place, "and we've seen some rough times together."
"Pray don't mention it," said Mr Meldrum; "your friendly feelings do
you both honour! But, how are we getting on, captain," he added, to
change the subject, "the ship seems to be slipping along through the
water?"
"Pretty well, but not so well as I could wish. We've got an obstinate
head-wind against us, and cannot quite lay on our proper course; so I
don't think we'll be able to log much of a run when we take the sun at
noon. The wind looks like shifting now, however, so the next twenty-
four hours may tell a different tale."
As the captain spoke, the sails flapped ominously against the masts;
and, in obedience to a motion of the mate's hand, the steersman had to
let the vessel's head fall off a little more to the westward, in order
to fill the canvas again and make it draw.
"I think, cap'en, we'd better thry her on the other tack," said the
Irishman after a pause. "The wind's headin' us sure!"
"All right, McCarthy," answered the captain, "go forwards and call the
watch, and we'll see about getting her about."
Handing the captain the telescope, which he had retained until now under
his left arm, apparently regarding it as the badge of his authority as
officer of the watch--an authority which he now relinquished to his
chief--the mate was down the poop ladder and on the deck below in "a
brace of shakes;" and, in another moment, his voice was heard in
stentorian tones ringing through the ship fore and aft. "Hands 'bout
ship!"
The cry was like the wave of an enchanter's wand in the realms of Fairy-
land; for, where all had been previously quiet and easy-going, with only
the helmsman apparently doing anything on board so far as the vessel's
progress was concerned, there was now a scene of bustle, noise, and
motion,--men darting forwards to flatten the headsails and aft to ease
off the boom sheets, and others to their allotted stations, waiting for
the well-known orders from the captain, who stood in the centre of the
poop, with the passenger beside him, looking on with a critical eye at
the way in which the manoeuvre should be executed.
"All ready forward?" shouted the captain, as soon as he saw the crew at
their several posts.
"Aye, aye, sorr," replied Mr McCarthy.
"Ready, aye ready," repeated the captain--it was a sort of catch-word of
warning to prepare the men for the next word of command, like the
"'Tention!" of the drill sergeant to his squad of recruits--and he then
waved his hand to the man at the wheel to put up the helm.
"Helm's a lee!" was the next cry; and, instantly, the jib and foresail
began to shiver and shake as the ship's bows came up to the wind, and
the square sails flattened against the masts, while the boom of the
mizzen swung to and fro until the vessel should get out of stays and pay
off on the port tack.
"Raise tacks and sheets!" came in rotation, and the topgallant-bowlines
were let go, ready for the next move.
"Mainsail haul!"--and the ponderous mainyard was swung round, bringing
with it the maintopsail and topgallant yards with all their acreage of
canvas: the foreyards followed suit, when the captain shouted, "Haul of
all;"--and, after the final order, "Brace sharp!" the _Nancy Bell_ might
have been seen heading a sou'-south-east course in lieu of her former
direction to the westwards, and gaining more southing by the change.
The mate had just returned to the poop, after seeing the watch trim the
forward sails and curl down the slack of the ropes, while Captain Dinks
was wondering why the steward had not yet summoned them down to
breakfast, considering that it was past eight bells. He was just indeed
asking Mr Meldrum whether he felt hungry or not, when suddenly a great
commotion was heard down the companion hatch, as of voices in
altercation, a crash of crockery following in rapid sequence.
"I'd like to know what that stupid lubber is up to now," ejaculated the
captain. "He's an ignorant ass, and as slow as a mute at a funeral.
I'm sorry I had to ship him; but I had no alternative, for my old
steward was taken suddenly ill, and I had to put up with this substitute
whom he sent me just as we were leaving Plymouth."
"Perhaps," began the passenger, as if he were about to offer some good-
natured excuse for the man's awkwardness, but his observations were
drowned by a louder clatter below than ever; and, ere the captain could
descend to ascertain the cause, the new steward rushed up the companion
ladder, with his eyes half-starting from his head, his hair standing on
end, and his face pale with terror.
"Howly Moses!" exclaimed the mate. "Be aisy, can't ye. What's the
matter wid ye, you spalpeen, to be rooshin' on deck like a bull in a
china shop? Spake, you blissid omahdawn, or I'll shake the loife out of
ye!"
And the Irishman, putting his brawny hands on the terrified man's
shoulders, appeared about to carry out his threat, when the unfortunate
wight stuttered out in stammering accents, "Lor-ord, sir, do-oo-oo come
below. The-eer's a ghost in the cabin; an-an-and he wants to m-m-murder
me!" the man looking the while as if he was going to faint.
"A ghost in the cabin?" said the passenger, laughing; "and in daylight
to? Why, Captain Dinks, he must be a sort of _rara avis_--not _in
terris_, however, in this instance."
"A ghost in the cabin?" repeated the captain, in a serious tone of
voice, with a frown on his forehead that somewhat disturbed the usual
good-humoured expression of his countenance; "we must see about this. I
don't allow any ghosts aboard my ship!"
And, with these words he dived down the companion, followed closely by
the mate and passenger; the panic-stricken steward contenting himself
with remaining at the top of the hatchway at a safe distance from the
object that had alarmed him, although he could not help peering down
below and listening with bated breath as to what might ensue in the
cabin--heedless of the entreaties of the man at the wheel, in whom
curiosity had overpowered the sense of duty for the nonce and made to
speak in defiance of discipline, to "tell him all about it!"