SHE CONVERSES WITH HER COUSIN
Presently I stepped leisurely into the recess under the poop where
the soldiers and the women were. One was the pretty young woman who
had given me a smile when I came on board the ship at Woolwich. She
viewed me with her soft, dark eyes with a wistful admiration, but I
could not observe that she remembered me. The three or four soldiers
without belts, their jackets unbuttoned, lounged against the bulkhead,
smoking their pipes. I was now used to being stared at, and gave them
no heed. Whilst I thus stood waiting for what was next to happen, Will
came along from his berth forward. When he saw me, he seemed to pause,
as though not knowing what to do. With the most pronounced air I could
contrive I averted my face and looked into the saloon through the
window, and when I glanced again my cousin was out of sight. I was very
much in earnest that he should not get in trouble through me; nay, I
desired that for a long time yet he and I should keep as wide apart as
the two ends of the ship. He was boyish and imprudent, and might at any
moment say or do something that would lead to the disclosure of my sex,
and, for all I knew, to the revelation of my motive in hiding in this
ship.
The soldiers talked of the convicts, and I pricked up my ears, thirsty
for all information of the gloomy, hidden quarters where Tom lived. One
asked if the people were kept in irons throughout the voyage. Another
answered, No; he believed the irons were taken off after the ship was
out of the Bay of Biscay.
‘I couldn’t ’elp laughing,’ said one of the soldiers. ‘I was on sentry
below and heard a chap say to some others: “I don’t mind praying, but
cussed if I’m going to pray for the Governor of Tasmania! I’ll pray for
rain if it’s wanted, but not for a bloomed Governor.” “Who asks ye?”
says one of the convicts. “It’s to be a part of the prayers,” said the
other. “Me pray for the Governor of Tasmania!”--and here he swore and
used such language that I had to caution him.’
‘I wouldn’t pray for ne’er a Governor if I was a convick,’ said the
pretty young woman, with a toss of her head and a side-glance at me.
‘It’s a shame to make a joke of sacred things. Should a convick be made
to pray for his jailer? Would the Lord listen to the prayer of a sailor
who asks a blessing on the bo’sun who’s just been flogging him?’
‘There’s some queer chaps downstairs,’ said one of the soldiers.
‘There’s a fellow they call the smasher--a little, gray-haired man with
the kindest of faces, and speaks as soft as pouring out milk; he’s
lagged for one of the most awful crimes. There’s a play-actor--dunno
what right he’s got down there. They sails under false colours. Dessay
if he’d got his right name ye’d find him some one as had been tiptop at
Drury Lane and the best of theayters. There’s a quiet, pleasing-looking
chap, lagged for scuttling.’ A woman asked what that was. ‘Sinking a
ship by making a hole in her.’
‘The villain!’ cried the woman. ‘I hope they’ll not give him a chance
with his tricks here.’
‘I’m sorry for that chap, somehow,’ said the soldier. ‘If I was a
painter I’d like to draw his picture. I’ll point him out some time or
other, and then you take notice, Jim, of his melancholy face. One picks
up a lot on sentry.’
‘A bad lot,’ said another soldier, spitting.
I listened eagerly and longed passionately to ask questions, but durst
not. Yet I might be sure that the soldier spoke of Tom, and I loved the
fellow for speaking of him kindly; and it was another proof that my
sweetheart was in the ship.
A child came and stood in front of me and looked up into my face. It
was a pretty little girl. I stooped and patted her cheek and kissed
her, took her by the hands and jumped her into a little dance, which
kept her laughing. I knew which was the child’s father by the pleased
look one of the soldiers regarded me with. It was the man who had
spoken kindly of Tom. When I found this out I kissed the child again
and talked to her of the ship and the sea. I observed that my manners
and speech controlled the listeners. They all knew I was a runaway
stowaway, and though they could know no more they might suspect a great
deal more. And yet they viewed me respectfully and talked with a sort
of civil reference to me as though I was a gentleman, listening.
The lights were burning very red but gradually dimming in the west,
and the sides of the seas slipped away from under the ship in hard,
dark-green slopes, laced with spray, and the froth of their heads was
faintly coloured by the sunset. The heel of the ship was sharp, and
she broke through the billows in thunder. There was a mighty noise of
whistling and raving aloft, and the strange shrill shrieking of the
foaming and dissolving salt alongside made me wonder what that sound in
the wind was.
An apprentice came off the poop and struck a bell suspended this
side of the quarter-deck barricade. A minute or two later a convict
passed through the door of the main-hatch and placed himself beside
the sentry; a second and then a third emerged until a considerable
number of men had assembled; they formed in a close-packed column which
stretched about half-way to the convicts’ galley; the soldier with
whose child I played, seeing me looking at the convicts, exclaimed:
‘They’re getting their supper. Them’s the messmen. As the fellows
receive their cocoa or whate’er it be, from the galley, they carries it
below, one by one.’
I imagined that Tom might be amongst that set of convicts, and made a
movement with the idea of walking some distance forward, where I should
be able to see; but I stopped myself on reflecting that the doctor was
probably at the poop rail overhead looking on.
‘’Taint bad discipline, taking it all round,’ said the soldier,
speaking to all who chose to listen, though I seemed to find his
remarks intended for my amusement or enlightenment. ‘It’s mostly
settled aboard the hulks before the parties come aboard. So I’m told.
The convicts they think proper to trust are made petty officers of.
There’s first and second captains, captains of divisions, captains of
wards. Then some of them are made cooks of, t’others barbers, and every
mess has its head. With this sort of arrangement they keeps each other
in order.’
‘Do any privileges go along with these appointments?’ asked one of the
soldiers.
‘The privilege of being appointed.’
I listened, but asked no questions. I dared not exhibit interest. I
could not forget that these soldiers formed a portion of the convicts’
guard.
‘I notice,’ said one of the soldiers, ‘that they puts them there
malefactors to all sorts of ship’s work. They were helping the sailors
wash the deck down this morning. They work hard, as though eddicated
under the muzzle of the carbine. A sight of difference there was ’twixt
the sailors’ scrubbing and their’n.’
I was watching the convicts whilst I listened to the soldier’s talk,
when some one inside of the cuddy called out: ‘Marlowe!’ I forgot my
feigned name, and did not respond. The voice again called, on which,
with a start. I looked through the cuddy door and saw the steward.
‘I reckoned as much,’ said he, with a laugh. ‘’Taint every purser’s
name as fits like old boots. Step this way.’
I entered. Just then the doctor came down the companion-steps at the
end of the cuddy and entered an after-cabin on the port side. He paused
a moment, as though to observe me, but did not speak. A young man, whom
I supposed to be an under-steward, was lighting the cabin lamps, but
there still lived a wild flush of western light, and you saw plainly by
it.
The steward began by informing me that I had no business in the ship;
that by stowing myself away on board a convict ship I risked the chance
of being made a felon of, of receiving six dozens at the gangway, of
being hanged at the yard-arm. In thus reassuring me he gave himself the
airs of the captain of the ship. He then added: ‘However, I like your
looks, as I told you before, and I’ve put in a good word for you with
Captain Sutherland, who, I may tell you, don’t think any the worse of a
youngster like you for squaring up, as he’s heard you’ve done, to the
doctor. The doctor himself owned to the captain,’ said he, lowering his
voice and looking aft toward the surgeon’s cabin, ‘that he got rather
more from you than he knew what to do with.’ He then abruptly inquired
if I possessed any clothes besides those I wore. I answered I had not.
‘Got any money?’
‘How much ought I to want?’
‘How much ha’ ye got?’ said he.
‘All I shall need on my arrival,’ said I.
He looked puzzled, eyed me all over, then approaching me by a step he
exclaimed with an earnest, confidential face: ‘Jokin’ apart, young man,
who are you and what’s your object in cutting this here caper?’ Finding
I did not reply, he continued: ‘You’re to have all the money you want
when you arrive? And you haven’t money enough to pay your passage to
get what’s awaiting for you?’ He paused. ‘Well, now, see here. You’ve
got no business aboard, and you stood to be whipped, and you stood to
be hanged for hiding in a Government transport. You’ve got to be fed,
and gent or no gent, you must work.’
‘I’m willing and anxious to work.’
‘The captain’s handed you over to me. There’s plenty of hands for’ard,
most of them about as sarviceable at a pinch as you’d be likely to
prove. We’re short of a man aft, and you’ll do for the post. Can you
wait at table?’
‘I’ll try.’
‘Well, you may rise to it. We’ll see. You’ll be wanted to carry the
dirty dishes for’ard for the cook’s mate to wash, to help bring the
dishes along from the galley, and to hang about here whilst the
officers are eating, ready to run to the galley on arrands.’
‘I’ll do all that willingly,’ said I.
He then told me that the second steward slung his hammock next door
to the pantry in the steerage, but as there were two or three empty
cabins down there I was welcome to use a bunk in the one in which I
had been locked up. ‘As for a bed,’ said he--‘you’d better ask the
sailmaker to give you a piece of old canvas, and the butcher to give
you a bundle of straw; you’ll get all the mattress you’ll want out of
that. If I can meet with a stray blanket you shall have it. That pilot
jacket, though a good coat, ain’t quite up to the knocker for table
work. Pity you haven’t got a little loose cash upon you. I’ve got a
spare jacket which,’ said he, taking a view of my shoulders, ‘would fit
you for breadth to a hair. But not to button across; why, I never see
such a chest on a young fellow. And now you can turn to,’ said he; ‘the
table’s to be got ready for dinner and you can help.’
I requested him to lend me some soap and a towel. He grinned and asked
me if there was any perfumery he could oblige me with. ‘But you’re
right,’ said he. ‘You’re in want of a wash-down.’ He left me, and
presently returned with a piece of marine soap and a coarse towel. He
then told me where I should find a bucket, and recommended me to draw
some water at the head pump on the forecastle, and to be careful not to
spill any on the deck as I brought it along if I did not want to be
sworn at by the officer of the watch.
I took a bucket from a rack near the mainmast and went along the
gangway, as I term the alley betwixt the barricade and the bulwarks.
My heart was almost light. The work I was to be put to was just such
as I should have chosen out of the whole group of duties of the big
ship. It was work that would keep me away from the forecastle hands; it
would not put more upon me than my strength was equal to. Best of all,
I was to occupy a cabin alone, which was an extraordinary piece of good
fortune.
It was the first dog-watch. All the convicts were in their prison
quarters; a number of sailors were smoking, idling, and talking in the
neighbourhood of the galleys; the wind swept keen and hard athwart the
forecastle; and the sentry was the only figure that paced that deck.
Some rough chaff saluted me as I passed the sailors. One asked if I was
going a-milking; another advised me to chuck the bucket overboard and
watch it tow. Just as I was stepping up the forecastle ladder, Will,
with a pipe in his mouth, put his head out of his berth. He instantly
saw me, and called out, with the manner of a young fellow exercising
some little authority:
‘Where are you taking that bucket to?’
‘On to the forecastle for water, sir,’ I answered.
‘Do you know anything about rigging a head pump?’ he exclaimed. ‘Not
you!’ he cried, laughing with a fine assumption of half-jocose,
half-pitying good nature. ‘Here, I’ll show you what to do.’
He followed me up the ladder. Upon the forecastle the wind was blowing
with a great roaring noise. The sentry leaned against it, and his
heavily coated figure swayed like a scarecrow in a breezy field as
he swung on his gripping feet to the plunge and toss of the bow.
The surge, rent by the sheering cutwater, rose in a boiling mass of
whiteness to within reach of the rail when the ship pitched. The driven
fabric swept the sea from her weather bow in smoke, and at every
stately curtsey a vast sheet of foam washed many fathoms ahead. The sea
ridged dark and hard. The ship heeled sharply over under great breasts
of canvas, and from the forecastle you saw the froth race past her on
either hand, and lift astern like a snow-covered path.
‘This was my chance and the first chance, Marian,’ said Will. ‘How are
you getting on?’
‘Well.’
‘We’ll seem to loiter a bit over this pump. What are they going to do
with you?’
I told him.
‘What! Cuddy bottle-washer? And the steward’s the cad of the ship.
There are many cads amongst us, but he’s head of the clan here.’
‘I’m perfectly satisfied, Will. I wish I could see Tom. I want to see
him with my own eyes.’
‘Hold the bucket so,’ said he, ‘and I’ll pump. Oh, never mind the
sentry. No notice is taken of soldiers at this end of the ship. I could
hug you for your pluck, I could. After all these days of black hole
under here to talk to the captain and doctor as I heard you! Where do
you sleep?’
All this while he was pretending to work the brake of the pump as
though something was wrong with it. I answered.
‘Come, that’s good,’ said he; ‘a cabin to yourself! They couldn’t have
given you more had they charged you sixty guineas.’
‘I have no mattress and nothing to sleep on but the bunk-boards,’ said
I.
‘And no bedclothes, of course?’ said he.
‘The steward has promised me the loan of a blanket if he can find one.’
‘Leave me to see what I can do,’ he exclaimed.
‘Run no risks, Will, for both our sakes.’
‘Do you want your money, Marian?’
‘No, I was searched. If I produce money now, they’ll guess I have a
friend on board. Will, there’s one thing you must contrive: Let me have
pencil and paper. Not now. Wait for a better chance. There will be
plenty. I must write to him.’
‘How are you going to give him a letter?’
‘I’ll find a way, Will.’
‘Marian, there’s no man under these stars, which are beginning to
shine, who’s worth what you’re doing for Tom. How cold the wind blows!
And aren’t they driving the old bucket just! I know what it will
be--eight bells, and Balls’s infernal pipe, and an hour’s roosting up
amongst those boughs there to reef and stow. You don’t want all that
water to wash in.’
He emptied two-thirds of the bucket, put the strap into my hand, and we
went down the forecastle ladder. The steward, who was helping the other
man to lay the cloth, asked what had kept me so long.
‘The pump’s stiff,’ said I, ‘and it blows hard on the fo’c’sle.’
‘Hard in your eye!’ he exclaimed. ‘Look lively now! There must be no
skulking. If you don’t bear a hand here, I’ll send you forward to the
bo’sun and the land of ropes’ ends and kicks.’
The under-steward laughed heartily. I went briskly to my cabin, and
washed my face and hands as well as I could in the dark. I found
nothing in the steward’s language to anger me--nothing in my situation
to cause me an instant’s regret. The truth is, I was extraordinarily
encouraged and supported by the sense of my sex--by the thought that I
need but avow myself to become an object of romantic interest, and so
be, at all events, humanely treated. Indeed, I caught myself laughing
when I put my hand into the upper bunk to feel for the parcel of my
wearing apparel. What, I thought to myself, would the steward think if
I were to dress myself in those clothes and enter the cuddy?