STRIKING WHILE THE IRON IS HOT.
Burgundy is bad stuff for anybody, and especially bad for boys. Clinch
found it necessary to keep at a respectful distance from the seamen of
his quarter-watch, for he was conscious of being quite unsteady on his
feet; of being shaky to a degree that could not be accounted for by
the motion of the steamer. But he knew what he was about all the time;
and, when he attended to the heaving of the log, he kept up a constant
shouting to the hands at the line, to stimulate their interest in their
work, and thus prevent them from observing him. But the very thickness
of his tones as he spoke was enough to betray him, if there had been
any one present who was accustomed to this phase of intoxication.
Alexander had found it more difficult to keep awake after he had loaded
himself with Burgundy than it was before. If he kept his seat, he was
sure to fall asleep; and several times he “lost himself.” He knew that
the captain had a habit of prowling about the deck at all hours of the
night, as well as of the day; and for this reason he felt obliged to
keep on his feet during the remainder of his watch, for it would have
ruined him to have the commander find him asleep at his post. He did
not consider the Burgundy experiment a success.
Gregory slept like a log in his state-room till eight o’clock, when all
hands were called. He got out of his berth with an aching head, and was
as cross as a spoiled child. He went to breakfast; but the strong wine
had destroyed his appetite so that he could not taste food, and he only
drank a cup of coffee. When the meal was finished, Capt. Fairfield, who
had prepared the forward part of the cabin for a schoolroom, summoned
the starboard watch to attend to their recitations. The lessons had
been assigned the day before; and the port-watch, composed of the
officers and seamen from the Tritonia, had faithfully studied them.
Richards had done so while on duty in the engine-room, for he had not
work enough to keep him employed half of the time. He was so accustomed
to watching the gauge and the motion of the machinery, that he could do
it mechanically, as one writes with a pen without thinking that he is
writing. The chief engineer had also studied his lessons when he ought
to have been asleep.
Gregory heard the summons to the recitation. He had not studied his
lessons, and the call was an unpleasant one to him. The after-effect
of the heavy drams of Burgundy he had taken was not only to make him
cross, like a wilful child, but as ugly as a hungry wild beast. He
looked at the Josephines of the starboard watch, as they passed into
the cabin; and they appeared to him like lambs going to the slaughter.
Not that they all, or even many of them, objected to the recitations;
but he judged them by himself, and interpreted their feelings by his
own. He was utterly opposed to the quarter-watch arrangement, which
seemed to be connected with the study scheme, inasmuch as it afforded
every student his needed recreation without interfering with his
lessons in ordinary weather. He wanted the four hours’ leisure when his
watch was off duty.
Before the students had all seated themselves at the tables arranged
for study purposes, Clinch came to the main door of the cabin, at which
Gregory was standing. They had been cronies since they came into the
Josephine, and each understood the other perfectly. Like many others,
they had both been sent to the academy squadron after being expelled
from other literary institutions. They would have passed for bad boys
before; but the novel discipline of the nautical school had at least
produced a temporary reform. They had not been made over in their minds
and hearts, as many had; but they had been transformed into obedient
sailors and diligent scholars. This was not enough; but it was better
than nothing. Gregory was fourth lieutenant, and Clinch third master,
of the Josephine; and no doubt they had fairly won these positions by
their attention and zeal.
“Bob Clinch,” called Gregory, as the third officer was passing into the
cabin.
“What do you want, Dave?” demanded Clinch.
“I want to see you.”
“What for?”
“Come out here, and I will tell you.”
Gregory led the way to the port side of the deck, and hauled his
friend into a corner where he could speak to him without interruption.
But suddenly he seemed to change his mind, and conducted him to the
mess-room, which was not occupied at this time. Taking from its
hiding-place in the bottom of a locker one of the bottles of Burgundy,
he filled a couple of glasses from it; and the cronies tossed them
off quite as a matter of course, as though it were a part of the
regular routine of the vessel. Neither of them spoke a word, for each
understood the other without any speeches.
“I object to the present order of things on board,” said Gregory, when
he had restored the bottle to its hiding-place, and rinsed the glasses
so that no telltale odor should betray him. “I am not going in to the
recitations.”
“Then there will be a row,” added Clinch lightly, as though it were of
no particular consequence if there should be a tempest on board.
“I don’t care if there is: in fact, I should rather like a little
excitement,” added Gregory. “I don’t feel at home on board of this
craft. I have been snubbed half a dozen times by O’Hara since I came
into the steamer.”
“Well, what are you going to do about it?”
“I am not going into the cabin to the recitations, in the first place.”
“But you will have to fight that out with Capt. Fairfield, and not with
O’Hara,” suggested Clinch. “He is the schoolmaster of the ship.”
“I don’t care whom I fight it out with. I feel that I have been a good
boy about as long as it will pay. It looks to me just as though we had
come to the end of our service in the Josephine.”
“But we shall return to her.”
“I have my doubts about that. When we get to England, if we go there,
this vessel will be seized, attached, taken possession of, or something
or other of that sort, and we shall all be afloat at loose ends; and
how shall we get back to the squadron among the Isles of the Sea? The
Prince is not going to wait for us, and we have lost the Madeiras,
which I wanted to see more than all the rest of the islands.”
“I heard our vice-principal say that passengers are entitled to salvage
if they save a vessel after she has been abandoned, or if they help
take her into port after she has been partially disabled; and I suppose
Mr. Frisbone will attend to the business, so far as the steamer is
concerned.”
“No matter for that: if we get to England, we shall have no vessel to
chase the squadron in; and I don’t believe we shall ever find it. I
think the cruise of the fleet is ended, as I said.”
“What is the use of beating about the bush all day, Dave? if you have
any thing to say, why don’t you say it. What do you mean to do?”
demanded Clinch, a little impatiently.
“Are you going in to the recitations, Bob?” asked Gregory, as though
this would settle the whole matter.
“No, not if you don’t: I shall follow your lead.”
“That’s all I want to know,” replied Gregory, opening the door of the
mess-room, and passing out on the main deck.
“But that isn’t all I want to know,” added Clinch, following him. “If
there is going to be a row, I want to know my way into it, and my way
out of it.”
“I don’t know that there will be any row,” answered Gregory.
“If you refuse to attend recitations there will be, without any doubt.”
“Capt. Fairfield wishes to see Mr. Gregory and Mr. Clinch in the
cabin,” said one of the quartermasters of the starboard watch, touching
his cap to the conspirators at this moment.
“Tell Mr. Fairfield, that, with entire respect for him, we have decided
not to attend recitations to-day,” replied Gregory promptly.
Stokes was the quartermaster who had delivered the message; and he
started back with astonishment at the reply of the first officer.
“Shall I say that to him?” he asked, thinking that perhaps Gregory was
joking.
“Say that to him,” added Gregory decidedly.
By this time the fumes of the wine were well up into his head, and he
had a courage not his own; and Clinch was affected in the same way.
“Very well, Mr. Gregory,” replied Stokes; but he did not seem inclined
to deliver the message.
“Why don’t you go back to the cabin with the answer I gave you?”
demanded the first officer; but his manner was strange to the
quartermaster,--rather silly and simpering.
“If the officers of the ship do not attend recitations, I don’t know
why the seamen should,” added Stokes, encouraged to make the remark by
the light tone of his superior.
“They can do as they please,” answered Gregory, with a snuff and a
chuckle. “But go and deliver the message to the instructor.”
“I should like to ask if the rest of the starboard watch may decide not
to attend recitations,” continued Stokes, who was very anxious to learn
something more in regard to the position of the officers before him.
“Come into the mess-room, Stokes,” said Gregory, leading the way. “The
rest of the watch can do just as they please.”
The young tippler--he was nineteen--took the bottle from the locker,
and, knowing the quartermaster very well, he gave him a glass of the
wine. Possibly he thought the dose would stimulate his ideas, and
enable him to reach the conclusion to which his superiors had arrived.
Stokes was willing enough to imbibe, and he drank off the contents of
the glass.
“I should like to know what’s up,” said the messenger from the cabin.
“In a word, then, we don’t like the way things are managed on board.
The captain has disregarded his instructions; and that absolves us all
from obeying his orders,” replied Gregory, as he drank another dram.
“Is that the idea?” asked Stokes.
“That’s just it. The captain has divided us into quarter-watches, and
it is by his royal mandate that we are to study our lessons and recite
them.”
“The captain’s? If that is so, how does Capt. Fairfield happen to be
on board?” inquired Stokes, who could not help seeing the flaw in the
first officers argument.
“I suppose he was sent on board to look after us a little.”
“But all hands were required to take their books and exercise-papers
with them.”
“That was so that any might study who were inclined. I am not inclined.”
“No more am I,” added Stokes, laughing, as the Burgundy began to
operate in his upper story.
“As a matter of duty, I don’t know as we ought to let this thing go
any farther; for, as the case stands now, O’Hara is actually running
away with the vessel,” continued Gregory, whose speech was beginning to
be a little thick. “When a lot of fellows ran away with the Tritonia,
and were going on an independent cruise in her, the ones that took
possession of her and brought her back were treated like lords by the
faculty, and praised up to the skies for what they had done.”
“Come in, Lawring!” called Clinch, as he saw the other quartermaster of
the starboard watch at the door of the mess-room.
“Capt. Fairfield sent me to see what had become of Stokes,” said
Lawring, as he came into the mess-room.
“Well, you see, don’t you?” leered Gregory, whose head was buzzing as
though it contained a circular saw in motion. “Here, Lawring, you are a
good fellow.”
The first officer took the second bottle of Burgundy from the locker
(for the first was empty by this time), and filled the glass on
the table. Clinch looked out of the window on the deck to warn his
companion of the approach of any one who might interfere with their
pastime. But no one disturbed them.
“Drink this, Lawring,” said Gregory, when he had filled the glass.
“What is it?” inquired the quartermaster, as he looked from one to
another in the apartment, wondering what could be going on.
“It’s the best wine on board of the Ville d’Angers, and as good as
you can find anywhere,” replied Gregory in maudlin tones. “Take it,
Lawring: it will do you good.”
“Thank you, Mr. Gregory: I never drink wine,” answered the
quartermaster, as he looked over the three former occupants of the
mess-room; and he was fully satisfied that all of them had been
partaking of the wine.
If the first officer of the steamer was not tipsy, he had never seen a
person in that condition.
“If you never drank any wine, it is time for you to begin,” chuckled
Gregory.
“Thank you, Mr. Gregory: I don’t wish for any,” returned Lawring
decidedly.
“I tell you to drink it; and I am the first officer of this craft.”
“Excuse me: I signed the pledge before I left home; and I intend never
to drink any thing as long as I live.”
“But I am your superior officer!” persisted Gregory, in broken speech.
“You must obey me!”
The tippler began to be angry, and stormed at the quartermaster in his
incoherent speech.
“I will not drink wine in obedience to any body’s orders,” replied
Lawring firmly.
“You won’t! then I’ll make you drink it!”
“Dry up, Dave!” interposed Clinch.
“What reply shall I take to Capt. Fairfield, Stokes?” asked Lawring, as
he opened the door behind him.
“Tell Capt. Fairfield, that, with entire respect for him, we have
decided not to attend any recitations,” answered Stokes, sending the
reply which Gregory had given him.
“Don’t let him go till I bust in his head!” exclaimed the first
officer, staggering towards the door to intercept the departing
quartermaster.
“No, no; don’t get up a fight here,” said Clinch, taking his crony by
the collar, and detaining him.
Lawring did not wait for any thing more; but hastened back to the
cabin, where the rest of the watch were engaged in their recitations.
“Stokes says, that, with entire respect for you, Capt. Fairfield, he
has decided not to attend any recitations,” said Lawring, reporting to
the instructor.
“Indeed! and did you see Gregory and Clinch?” inquired the astonished
teacher.
“They were all in the mess-room forward, sir.”
“What does this mean? did they assign any reason for their conduct?”
“No, sir; but I think that all three of them have been drinking wine;
and Mr. Gregory is intoxicated,” added the quartermaster.
“Intoxicated!” exclaimed Capt. Fairfield. “I think you must be
mistaken, Lawring.”
“No, sir, I am not. They had a bottle of red wine, and Mr. Gregory
asked me to drink a glass of it.”
Capt. Fairfield was bewildered at this intelligence. Three of the
students who ought to be at their studies were drinking wine in the
mess-room. Certainly this was all wrong. The students were not allowed
to drink wine, to say nothing of refusing to attend to the lessons.
But the instructor was a prudent man; and he paused to consider his
own powers in the premises. He had been sent on board to instruct
the ship’s company; and he concluded that his authority was the same
as that of any other professor in the absence of the principal or a
vice-principal. He had the entire control of the students during study
hours, unless they were ordered to do ship’s duty by the captain. He
could not interfere with the navigation of the vessel; but he could
compel the attendance of the pupils at the proper hours in the cabin.
Leaving the cabin, he went on the poop-deck, where O’Hara was, and
stated the case to him. The young captain was very much disconcerted
by the intelligence that some of the students were insubordinate, but
especially so that the first and third officers were in a state of
intoxication and rebellion. It was clear enough that the tipplers had
found a way to get into the wine-room in the hold. Mr. Frisbone had
taken the key to this room; and it was a mystery how the students had
got into it.
O’Hara told Capt. Fairfield that he had full powers to compel the
attendance of the members of the starboard watch in the cabin, and
advised him to call upon the boatswain and carpenter if he needed any
assistance. While the instructor went to attend to this duty, O’Hara
called for the stewards, and visited the hold with them. They knew
nothing about the wine or the wine-room. The door was locked, and all
appeared to be right about it. But, while they were investigating the
matter, the captain saw Alfonzo come out of the fire-room, and creep
under the engine to the door leading into the after-hold. He went
below again, and the fireman unlocked the door of the wine-room. When
he had gone in, the captain crept up to the door, and took out the key.
Calling the two stewards, they drove Alfonzo out, and locked the door.
“Keep this key,” said O’Hara to the man who acted as chief steward,
“and search the ship all over. If you find any wine or liquors, lock
them up.”
It so happened that the firemen had exhausted the supply they had in
the fire-room, and had sent Alfonzo for another stock. He had found
the key in the fire-room. The stewards found that which Gregory had
concealed in the locker, and it was secured. No wine was to be had
except in the wine-room. As a further precaution, the captain ordered
the carpenter to transfer two heavy bars of iron from another door to
this one. As each bar was secured by a large lock, it was not likely
the room would be broken into.
Capt. Fairfield went to the mess-room after he left the captain. The
students there were respectful to him at first; but, when he spoke of
enforcing his authority, Gregory was impudent; and the others, whose
heads were full of wine, followed his example.
But the instructor was a rigid disciplinarian; and, calling in
Shakings, they dragged the first and third officers and the
quartermaster into the cabin. But they were all too much intoxicated to
study or recite; and Capt. Fairfield locked them into a couple of spare
state-rooms.
By noon they had all slept off the effects of the wine. O’Hara had
been thinking all the morning about the case of discipline on hand,
and confidently expected trouble as soon as the time came to change
the watch. He had made up his mind what to do; but his action must be
governed by the circumstances. Only three of the students from the
Josephine had thus far been insubordinate; but all the rest might join
them. But he apprehended no difficulty, for the officers and seamen
from the Tritonia were enough to handle the steamer.
Gregory had been let out of the state-room, completely sobered, at
half-past eleven, so that he could dine with his watch in season to
take the deck at noon. He was even more cross and ugly than he had been
in the morning.
“All the starboard watch on deck!” shouted the acting boatswain, piping
the call.
Gregory did not move from the seat he had taken at the cabin-door.
O’Hara trembled as he saw that the first officer was intent upon making
trouble.
“The deck is yours, Mr. Gregory,” said Raymond, tendering to him the
trumpet, in the usual form.
“I don’t want it,” growled the first officer. “I shall not do duty any
more.”
Raymond reported the answer to the captain.
“Call all hands!” said O’Hara promptly.
The call was immediately piped. As on board the vessels of the
squadron, every officer and seaman had his station, and was required to
repair to it instantly, whether the call came by day or night.
Every one went to his station except the three who had refused to
attend the recitations. Possibly the conspirators could have induced
others of their shipmates in the Josephine to join them; but they had
had no time to work the case up.
[Illustration: MR. SHAKINGS TAKES CHARGE OF THE FIRST OFFICER. Page
249.]
“Here, Winchell!” shouted Gregory to one of his own watch. “Don’t go!
We are going to stand out. O’Hara is running away with the steamer, and
we need not obey orders.”
“Mr. Shakings, you will take charge of the first officer,” said the
young captain. “Lock him into his state-room, and keep him there.”
Clinch followed the lead of his crony, and Mr. Rimmer was directed to
serve him in the same way. Both of them were disposed to show fight;
but the stout boatswain and carpenter made quick work with them. Stokes
concluded, at this particular moment, not to “stand out,” and went to
his station at the wheel.
No doubt Gregory was astonished to find himself and his conspiracy so
easily overcome. He was a prisoner by himself, and likely to remain so
for a considerable time.
As soon as the mutineers were disposed of, O’Hara called the ship’s
company together. He did not allude to the event which had just
transpired, except to state the fact that there were two vacancies
in the officers’ cabin; and it was necessary that they should be
immediately filled, for two quarter-watches were without officers.
After consulting with Speers and Raymond, both of whom insisted that
the vacant places should be filled without promoting either of them,
the captain appointed Lawring first officer in place of Gregory, and
Taylor in place of Clinch; both of them from the Josephine.
The firemen made a new demand for wine; but they obtained none, and
they did not deem it prudent to “strike” again. In five days more the
Ville d’Angers arrived at Portsmouth, with the Castle William in tow.