When our hero at last reached the Great Eastern, he soon found himself
in what may be termed a lost condition. At first he was disappointed,
for he saw her at a distance, and it is well-known that distance lends
deception as well as "enchantment to the view." Arrived alongside,
however, he felt as if he had suddenly come under the walls of a great
fortress or city.
Presently he stood on the deck of the Big Ship, as its familiars called
it, and, from that moment, for several days, was, as we have said, in a
lost condition. He was lost in wonder, to begin with, as he gazed at
the interminable length and breadth of planking styled the deck, and the
forest of funnels, masts, and rigging, and the amazing perspective,
which caused men at the further end from where he stood to look like
dolls.
Then he was lost in reality, when he went below and had to ask his way
as though he were wandering in the labyrinths of a great city. He
felt--or thought he felt--like a mere mite in the mighty vessel. Soon
he lost his old familiar powers of comparison and contrast, and ere long
he lost his understanding altogether, for he fell down one of the
hatchways into a dark abyss, where he would probably have ended his
career with electric speed if he had not happily fallen into the arms of
a human being, with whom he rolled and bumped affectionately, though
painfully, to the bottom of the stair.
The human being, growled intense disapprobation during the process, and
Robin fancied that the voice was familiar.
"Come, I say," said the being, remonstratively, "this is altogether too
loving, you know. Don't squeeze quite so tight, young 'un, whoever you
be."
"Oh, I _beg_ your pardon," gasped Robin, relaxing his grasp when they
stopped rolling; "I'm _so_ sorry. I hope I haven't hurt you."
"Hurt me!" laughed Jim Slagg, for it was he; "no, you small electrician,
you 'aven't got battery-power enough to do _me_ much damage; but what
d'ye mean by it? Is this the way to meet an old friend? Is it right
for a Wright to go wrong at the wery beginnin' of his career? But come,
I forgive you. Have you been introdooced to Capting Anderson yet?"
"No! Who is he?"
"Who is he, you ignorant crokidile! why, he's the capting of the Great
Eastern, the commander o' the Big Ship, the Great Mogul o' the
quarter-deck, the king o' the expedition. But, of course, you 'aven't
bin introdooced to him. He don't associate much with small fry like
us--more's the pity, for it might do 'im good. But come, I'll take you
under my wing for the present, because your partikler owner, Ebbysneezer
Smith, ain't come aboard yet--ashore dissipatin', I suppose,--an'
everybody's so busy gettin' ready to start that nobody will care to be
bothered with you, so come along."
There was same truth in this eccentric youths' remarks, for in the
bustle of preparation for an early start every one on board seemed to be
so thoroughly engrossed with his own duty that he had no time to attend
to anything else, and Robin had begun to experience, in the absence of
his "partikler owner," an uneasy sensation of being very much in
people's way. As he felt strangely attracted by the off-hand
good-humoured impudence of his new friend, he consented to follow him,
and was led to a small apartment, somewhere in the depths of the mighty
ship, in which several youths, not unlike Slagg, were romping. They
had, indeed, duties to perform like the rest, but the moment chanced to
be with them a brief period of relaxation, which they devoted to
skylarking.
"Hallo who have you got here?" demanded a large clumsy youth, knocking
off Slagg's cap as he asked the question.
"Come, Stumps, don't you be cheeky," said Slagg, quietly picking up his
cap and putting it on; "this is a friend o' mine--one o' the
electricians,--so you needn't try to shock _his_ feelin's, for he can
give better than he gets. He's got no berth yet, so I brought 'im here
to show him hospitality."
"Oh, indeed," said Mr Stumps, bowing with mock respect; then, turning
to the comrade with whom he had been skylarking, "Here, Jeff, supply
this _gentleman_ with food."
Jeff, entering into Stumps' humour, immediately brought a plate of
broken ship-biscuit with a can of water, and set them on the table
before Robin. Our hero, who had never been accustomed to much jesting,
took the gift in earnest, thanked Jeff heartily, and, being hungry, set
to work with a will upon the simple fare, while Stumps and Jeff looked
at each other and winked.
"Come, I can add something to improve that feast," said Slagg, drawing a
piece of cheese from his pocket, and setting it before his friend.
Robin thanked him, and was about to take the cheese when Stumps snatched
it up, and ran out of the room with it, laughing coarsely as he went.
"The big bully," growled Slagg; "it's quite obvious to me that feller
will have to be brought to his marrow-bones afore long."
"Never mind," said Jeff, who was of a more amiable spirit than Stumps,
"here's more o' the same sort." He took another piece of cheese from a
shelf as he spoke, and gave it to Robin.
"Now, my young toolip," said Slagg, "havin' finished your feed, p'r'aps
you'd like to see over the big ship."
With great delight Robin said that he should like nothing better, and,
being led forth, was soon lost a second time in wonderment.
Of what use was it that Slagg told him the Great Eastern was 692 feet
long by 83 feet broad, and 70 feet deep? If he had said yards instead
of feet it would have been equally instructive to Robin in his then
mentally lost condition. Neither was it of the slightest use to be told
that the weight of the big ship's cargo, including cable, tanks, and
coals, was 21,000 tons.
But reason began to glimmer again when Slagg told him that the two
largest vessels afloat could not contain, in a convenient position for
passing out, the 2700 miles then coiled in the three tanks of the Great
Eastern.
"This is the main tank," said Slagg, leading his friend to a small
platform that hung over a black and apparently unfathomable gulf.
"I see nothing at all," said Robin, stretching his head cautiously
forward and gazing down into darkness profound, while he held on tight
to a rail. "How curious!--when I look down everything in this wonderful
ship seems to have no bottom, and when I look up, nothing appears to
have any top, while, if I look backward or forward things seem to have
no end! Ah! I see something now. Coming in from the light prevented
me at first. Why, it's like a huge circus!"
"Yes, it on'y wants hosses an' clowns to make it all complete," said
Slagg. "Now, that tank is 58 feet 6 inches in diameter, and 20 feet 6
inches deep, an' holds close upon 900 miles of cable. There are two
other tanks not much smaller, all choke-full. An' the queer thing is,
that they can telegraph through all its length _now_, at this moment as
it lies there,--an' they are doing so continually to make sure that
all's right."
"Oh! I understand _that_," said Robin quickly; "I have read all about
the laying of the first cable in 1858. It is the _appearance_ of things
in this great ship that confounds me."
"Come along then, and I'll confound you a little more," said Slagg.
He accordingly led his friend from one part of the ship to another,
explaining and commenting as he went, and certainly Robin's wonder did
not decrease.
From the grand saloon--which was like a palatial drawing-room, in size
as well as in gorgeous furniture--to the mighty cranks and boilers of
its engines, everything in and about the ship was calculated to amaze.
As Slagg justly remarked, "It was stunnin'."
When our hero was saturated with the "Big Ship" till he could hold no
more, his friend took him back to his berth, and left him there for a
time to his meditations.
Returning soon after, he sat down on a looker.
"I say, Robin Wright," he began, thrusting his hands into his
trousers-pockets, "it looks a'most as if I had smuggled you aboard of
this ship like a stowaway. Nobody seems to know you are here, an'
what's more, nobody seems to care. Your partikler owner ain't turned up
yet, an' it's my opinion he won't turn up to-night, so I've spoke to the
stooard--he's _my_ owner, you know--an' he says you'd better just turn
into my berth to-night, an' you'll get showed into your own to-morrow."
"But where will _you_ sleep?" asked Robin, with some hesitation.
"Never you mind that, my young electrician. That's _my_ business. What
you've got to do is to turn in."
Jeff and another lad, who were preparing to retire for the night at the
time, laughed at this, but Robin paid no attention, thanked his friend,
and said that as he was rather tired he would accept his kind offer.
Thereafter, pulling out the small Bible which he had kept in his pocket
since leaving home, he went into a corner, read a few verses, and then
knelt down to pray.
The surprise of the other lads was expressed in their eyes, but they
said nothing.
Just then the door opened, and the lad named Stumps entered. Catching
sight of Robin on his knees he opened his eyes wide, pursed his mouth,
and gave a low whistle. Then he went up to Robin and gave him a slight
kick. Supposing that it was an accident, Robin did not move, but on
receiving another and much more decided kick, he rose and turned round.
At the same moment Stumps received a resounding and totally unexpected
slap on the cheek from Jim Slagg, who planted himself before him with
clenched fists and flashing eyes.
"What d'ye mean by interferin' wi' _my_, friend at his dewotions, you
monkey-faced polypus?" he demanded fiercely.
The monkey-faced polypus replied not a word, but delivered a
right-hander that might have felled a small horse. Jim Slagg however
was prepared for that. He turned his head neatly to one side so as to
let the blow pass, and at the same moment planted his knuckles on the
bridge of his opponent's nose and sent him headlong into Jeff's bunk,
which lay conveniently behind. Jumping furiously out of that, and
skinning his shins in the act, Stumps rushed at Slagg, who, leaping
lightly aside, tripped him up and gave him a smack on the left ear as he
passed, by way of keeping him lively.
Unsubdued by this, Stumps gathered himself up and made a blind rush at
his adversary, but was abruptly stopped by what Jeff called a "dab on
the nose." Repeating the rush, Stumps was staggered by a plunging blow
on the forehead, and he paused to breathe, gazing the while at his foe,
who, though a smaller youth than himself, was quite as strong.
"If you've had enough, monkey-face," said Slagg, with a bland smile,
"don't hesitate to say so, an' I'll shake hands; but if you'd prefer a
little more before goin' to bed, just let me know, and--"
Slagg here performed some neat and highly suggestive motions with his
fists by way of finishing the sentence.
Evidently Stumps wanted more, for, after a brief pause, he again rushed
at Slagg, who, stepping aside like a Spanish matador, allowed his foe to
expend his wrath on the bulkhead of the cabin.
"You'll go through it next time, Stumps, if you plunge like that," said
Jeff, who had watched the fight with lively interest, and had encouraged
the combatants with sundry marks of applause, besides giving them much
gratuitous advice.
Regardless alike of encouragement and advice, the angry youth turned
round once more and received a buffet that sent him sprawling on the
table, off which he fell and rolled under it. There he lay and panted.
"Now, my sweet polypus," said the victor, going down on one knee and
patting the vanquished on his shoulder, "next time you feels tempted to
kick a gentleman--specially a electrician--at his dewotions, think of
Jim Slagg an' restrain yourself. I bear you no ill-will however--so,
good-night."
Saying this, Robin's champion left the room and Stumps retired to his
berth growling.
Before passing from the subject, we may add that, the next night,
Robin--whose owner was still absent--was again hospitably invited to
share the cabin of his friend and protector. When about to retire to
rest he considered whether it was advisable to risk the repetition of
the scene of the previous, night, and, although not quite easy in his
conscience about it, came to the conclusion that it would be well to say
his prayers in bed. Accordingly, he crept quietly into his berth and
lay down, but Jim Slagg, who was present, no sooner saw what he was
about than he jumped up with a roar of indignation.
"What are you about?" he cried, "ain't you goin' to say your prayers,
you white-livered electrician? Come, git up! If _I'm_ to fight, _you_
must pray! D'ye hear? Turn out, I say."
With that he seized Robin, dragged him out of bed, thrust him on his
knees, and bade him "do his dooty."
At first Robin's spirit rose in rebellion, but a sense of shame at his
moral cowardice, and a perception of the justice of his friend's remark,
subdued him. He did pray forthwith, though what the nature of his
prayer was we have never been able to ascertain, and do not care to
guess. The lesson, however, was not lost. From that date forward Robin
Wright was no longer ashamed or afraid to be seen in the attitude of
prayer.