'I calls all freemen with a clarion voice, to say nothin' of a bugle,
to rise and put him down,' said Arizona. 'We can endure much, and
can endure it long. But the worm turns at last, and dear Bertie is
doomed. Boys, who is doomed?'
'Dear Bertie,' said the crowd; 'dear Bertie is doomed!'
'He is doomed to have his gun taken from him, and his eyeglass, if
the Major won't have it, shall be destroyed by the heel of freedom.
Boys, I have done.'
'Bully for you,' said the Major, 'I'll take the eyeglass.'
And the ingenious orator went on deck with his fellow-conspirators to
take the evening air, and commune with the genial and gentlemanly
stokers. The cinder-shifters owned with much amazement that the most
promising Whitechapel hero with the fire-rake was not a patch on the
chief ruffians from Louisiana and Texas. They admired Arizona
wonderfully, were marvellously civil to Ben Wilkins, who was a
murderous devil in his heart, and sat at the feet of 'Mizzoura' Jack
and Seth Graves, his partner. Neither of them could go back to
Missouri, and they said they didn't want to. At least Jack said so.
Seth was as silent as a cemetery.
'I've a notion,' said Arizona, when he was through his second pipe,
'I've a notion as it'll be best to decorate Bertie for his doin's
hyar.'
'I'd decorate him with a bowie, but for you're sayin' you'll regard
it as a favour if I don't,' said Ben Wilkins.
'You're ever too ready with the knife, my son,' said Arizona, 'but if
you'll stand aside with me I'll furnish your barren and uninventive
genius with a harmless job for your weepon, that you keep in your
boot, which will amuse Bertie worse than wounds. Let's climb up on
what these gentlemen from the fiery depths calls the _fiddley_ deck,
and I'll breathe an elegant scheme into your starboard earhole, which
is ship's palaver for right ear.'
They climbed up, and presently Ben climbed down and went hunting for
a piece of board.
'Ter-morrer is the fatal day,' said Arizona. 'Jokin' will be the
death of me. But oh, dear Bertie would almost make Seth Graves
smile, and as for me who was born with a rich endowment of fun, I kin
no more keep off him than a bear off honey.'
The whole ship's company was down on Bertie. They were down on his
eyeglass, on his nice khaki clothes, on his revolver, on his voice,
which subtly implied that they were nothing, and much less than zero.
And every one on board, with the exception of the skipper, and the
chief officer and the chief engineer, who came from Paisley, and was
probably a brother of the man who owned to coming from there, but
urged in extenuation, 'sure as deeth I canna help it,' knew that
something was brewing among the aristocrats who looked after the
horses which boded Bertie no good. Forder, of course, knew it, and
said nothing. The third officer knew it, and said a good deal to the
steward, who hated Bertie worse than poison for telling him how to
run his business. Bob Wadd and Green, and the rest of the
deck-hands, smelt it. They smelt it like Bob Wadd's gasworks, and
rubbed their hands joyously. The firebrands down below used most
horrible language on the subject, and wished that they could have
Bertie in a bunker for a watch to show him what running Cardiff coal
in an iron barrow was like.
'Blimy, and stri-me-pink, but I fair 'ytes to ketch saight of 'im,'
said the boss of the whole gang of stokers. 'Thet vice of 'is syin'
"aw, aw," maikes me feel saime's I did first taime I was blasted fool
enough to come to sea. I wunner wod them blokes of 'orse-keepers 'as
put up for 'im! I 'opes it's somethin' that'll larn 'im.'
He smote the burning fire with his rake as if he was preparing a
place for Bertie, and slammed in a few shovels of coal vengefully.
But then stokers are stokers, and hard nuts to deal with, and few men
know them, and those who do often wish they didn't. It's no soft job
in a stokehold when the thermometer marks 120°, and what little wind
there is, is a following breeze.
And Bertie walked round quite unconscious of his doom. But he was
conscious, somehow, that every one smiled at him. Old Wadd grinned
and so did Green. As he went along the alleyway and by the
ash-shoot, the stokers taking air in that agreeable locality showed
their white teeth and made remarks, audible but unintelligible, as he
passed. One-eyed Venezuela grimaced like a damaged idol, and said
something blasphemous but humorous in South American Spanish. Some
of the deckhands said, 'What cheer! Let her scoot,' as they passed
him. Arizona said to Ben something about being knocked as high as
Gilroy's kite, and Ben said, 'Aw, hell, aw, what?' The insolent and
debauched Major, who was only saved from dying of drink by going at
intervals where he couldn't get it, put a penny in his left eye when
he saw Bertie. And a boy from New Orleans, an elegant young ruffian
of the hoodlum type, yelled out 'Bertie!' from an obscure corner of
shadow. In his heart Bertie began to wonder whether he had the crowd
down to such a fine point as he had imagined. But he hardened his
heart and said, 'Aw,' and flourished his gun, his nice new gun, and
talked horse till Ben Wilkins said insolently, 'Ain't Mr. Fortescue a
smart Aleck?' and Bertie thought it was a compliment.
'Ter-morrer's the day of judgment,' said Arizona, as he lay on a bale
of hay and squealed with laughter. He went round the 'tween-decks
and told the horses so, rubbing their muzzles and pleasing the poor
things very much. For he understood them as he did men, and loved
them, perhaps, a trifle better.
'Ain't it a pity, horses, that you warn't endowed by a gen'rous
Providence with a just sense of the ridik'lous? If, by a special
dispensation, you was so endowed, you'd smile to know that Bertie,
who talks horse like a burro, will be showed his real rank in nature
and decorated with the newest thing in orders.'
He shook his head and again addressed his equine friends.
'Boys, you're goin' to the war and will see many jackasses in high
places, but not a burro among 'em equal in jackassery to Mr. Bertie
Fortescue. Did you say you'd hev a bit of hay, my son? Here you
are, then, and good night to you.'
Everything went on wheels next day, and, save for one little uproar,
caused by Bertie's not understanding what a Spaniard said, there was
no trouble. Bertie talked severely to the unintelligent ass who
didn't understand English, and a row was only saved by Arizona, who
could yap Mexican wau-wau like a native of the country. The Spaniard
said something not to be written, beginning with 'mucho,' and Bertie
said he accepted the apology, and put away his gun.
'We're getting along first-rate, aw,' said Bertie, and so the whole
ship's company said when night fell, and the stars came out and
looked down on the pilgrimage of the _Pilgrim_ on a calm sea, with
just enough breeze from the east of north to make the windsails worth
their positions in the general scheme of things. And at 5.30 P.M.
the men took their grub, having watered and fed the eager and
impatient cargo, and Ben Wilkins said the 'order' was ready.
'What order?' asked the rest eagerly.
''Tis between me and Arizona,' said Ben; 'and all I'll say is that
it's for dear Bertie. Wait, and you'll see.'
At three bells in the second dog-watch they watered the horses again,
as the weather was rather more than warm, and at eight bells they
gave them hay for the last time till the morning. Bertie went his
rounds, and at half-past eight was down on the orlop deck, which was
so badly lighted with electric light that the men supplemented the
electricity with lanterns. Though there were fewer horses there than
on the 'tween-decks or the main deck, there were more men down on the
orlop deck than on any other. And they were obviously much amused at
something. What it was the owner's son did not know till he came
right forward on the starboard side, having begun for'ard on the port
side and walked aft. He found quite a gathering on the fore-hatch of
No. 1 hold. A lot were sitting and the rest standing about in two
groups, with Ben and Arizona in the midst.
'Good night, Bertie,' said some one from the background.
'Who the devil said that?' asked Bertie. He turned to Arizona. 'Was
it you?'
'No, Bertie,' said Arizona, 'it warn't me, dear; I wouldn't think of
takin' such a liberty with so fine a lookin' young man. Was it you,
Ben?'
Ben shook his head.
'Not me, Bill. Would I call a nice young boy like him by such a
horrid insultin' name? No, it warn't me that called him Bertie.'
Bertie gasped.
'Haw--haw!'