HARRY GETS INTO TROUBLE.
Captain Brandon entered the cabin, carrying under his arm a cabin-boy’s
suit.
“It’s time you entered upon your duties,” he said. “Put on these clothes.”
He expected a renewal of Harry’s remonstrances; but our hero had made up
his mind what to do. It was no use crying over spilt milk. Since he was
on board the Sea Eagle, however much against his will, he would make the
best of a disagreeable position. He had confidence in the judgment and
friendship of the supercargo, whom he liked, notwithstanding their brief
acquaintance, and he resolved to accept the situation, and do his best
in it. When, therefore, the captain held out the cabin-boy’s suit, Harry
took it quietly, asking:—
“Where shall I put it on?”
“You can put it on here,” said the captain, looking at him curiously.
Remembering the state of fiery indignation which our hero displayed a few
minutes before, he was not prepared for this quiet acquiescence.
“So you’ve changed your mind, have you?” he asked.
“No, Captain Brandon,” answered Hurry, firmly. “I have been treacherously
entrapped on board this vessel, and I remain here against my will; but
as long as I stay I may as well have something to do. I will act as
cabin-boy, and shall expect to receive a cabin-boy’s wages.”
“Well, I’m glad you’ve turned sensible,” said Brandon. “It would have
been the worse for you if you hadn’t.”
“I don’t intend to deceive you as to my intentions, Captain Brandon,”
continued Harry, boldly. “I mean to leave this ship the first chance I
get.”
“That won’t be very soon,” sneered Brandon; “as I don’t expect to stop
anywhere till I reach China. If you want to leave me there, I shan’t take
any great pains to catch you.”
By this time Harry had changed his clothes, and had all the appearance of
a young sailor.
“Now go and report yourself to the mate,” said Captain Brandon.
Harry left the cabin, and went up on deck. He saw and recognized the man
to whom the captain had spoken the day before, and walked up to him.
“I believe you are the mate, sir,” he said.
“Well, my lad, and who are you? The new cabin-boy?”
“Yes, sir. The captain ordered me to report to you.”
“Tom Patch!” said the mate, calling one of the sailors near by.
Tom Patch came forward, hitching up his pants, as he advanced with a
regular sailor’s roll. He had a short, square-built figure, and a face
bronzed by exposure to the suns of every clime. But his expression was
honest and intelligent, not brutish and stupid, as is the case with many
who have followed the sea for years without rising above the position of
a common sailor.
“Show him his bunk. Patch, and break him in.”
“Ay, ay, sir,” said Patch, turning to Harry, whom he surveyed with
interest.
“Come with me, my lad,” he said.
They descended into the forecastle, where Harry was assigned a bunk near
that of the sailor under whose care he had been placed.
“You’re a green hand, I reckon, my lad,” said Tom.
“Yes,” said our hero.
“Well, I’m glad you’re going to sea. I don’t see how folks can be
contented to live on shore.”
“Do you mean that?” asked Harry, rather amused.
“Of course I do.”
“Then I don’t agree with you. I’d rather be on land.”
“Mayhap you’ve been sea-sick. You’ll get over it soon, and then you’ll
find it jolly.”
“No, I have not been sick; but I don’t like the sea.”
“Then what brought you here?” said Tom, in natural wonder.
“Captain Brandon. He served me a mean trick.”
“Avast there, my lad!” said Tom, lowering his voice, and looking around
him significantly. “It aint best to talk ag’in the cap’n, leastways so he
can hear.”
“I’m not afraid,” said our hero, firmly. “I told him so myself.”
“What’s that?” asked Tom, incredulously.
“I told Captain Brandon he had served me a mean trick.”
“And he knocked you down with a belaying-pin?” suggested Tom.
“No, he didn’t,” said Harry, quietly.
“Then you got off easy. Better not say it ag’in, my lad.”
“It’s true.”
“Never mind that. It aint best to tell the truth at all times. You shall
spin me the yarn some time when we are snugly stowed away out of earshot,
my lad. Now we must go to work.”
Harry accompanied Tom to the deck, and his experience as a sailor
commenced.
I do not propose to give a detailed account of what these duties were, as
this does not profess to be a sea-story, and will touch the sea only so
far as it may prove necessary to make Harry’s position understood. Days
passed away, and in accordance with the resolution he had formed our hero
attended strictly to duty. Being a smart boy, he very soon mastered the
details of his duties, and discharged them in such a manner that no fault
could justly be found with him. But Captain Brandon continued to view
him with an eye of suspicion. He had not forgotten nor forgiven the bold
and defiant manner in which Harry had expressed himself when he first
realized that he had been entrapped on board the Sea Eagle. He blamed
himself now that he had not inflicted a humiliating punishment upon Harry
at the time, and he carefully scrutinized his conduct in order to find a
pretext for paying off the old score.
But Harry thus far gave him no opportunity. He had not made any
complaints against the captain to any one except Tom Patch, to whom
he told his whole story, winning the stout-hearted sailor’s sympathy
and friendship. Thus Harry felt that he had one friend on the vessel;
nay, two, for the supercargo, of whom mention has already been made,
had by no means forgotten the promise he made to our hero to be his
friend. He frequently approached him when at work, and conversed with
him in a pleasant manner, as with an equal, never putting on an air of
condescension, as some in his position would have done.
This intimacy and evident good feeling between the supercargo and our
hero, Captain Brandon saw with dissatisfaction. He had tried to cultivate
an intimacy with Mr. Weldon himself, from motives of policy, on account
of his relationship to the owner of the ship, and the probability that
he would some day be himself a member of the firm; but it had not taken
the supercargo long to ascertain the real character of the captain, in
which he found very little to attract him. So, though he treated Captain
Brandon with scrupulous civility, there was a coolness in his manner
which effectually precluded any degree of intimacy. The captain saw this
and chafed at it. It humiliated him, yet he could not resent it. The
young man was studiously polite and respectful, and gave him no cause for
complaint. But he saw that his ceremonious politeness melted away when
he spoke to Harry Raymond whom he addressed in a cordial, kindly manner
which bespoke friendship. Captain Brandon brooded over this, being of
a jealous, suspicious temper, and resolved, on the first occasion that
presented itself, to take vengeance upon Harry, and thus at once gratify
his dislike for our hero and the supercargo.
There was another member of the ship’s crew whom it will be necessary to
introduce.
This was Jack Rodman, a boy somewhat older than Harry, and as different
from our hero as can well be imagined. He was coarse, ignorant, and
vicious, and could swear with as great fluency as any sailor twice his
age. He made at first some approaches to intimacy with our hero, but
Harry was too disgusted with what he had seen of him to care much about
striking up a friendship. On this account Jack bore a grudge against
our hero, and would have played some mischievous trick upon him but for
Tom Patch’s evident friendship for Harry. Jack was afraid of the stout
sailor, and felt compelled to effect his object in an underhand manner.
Among the peculiarities of Captain Brandon’s appearance was a very long
nose, which, however useful it might be to the owner, was far from
ornamental. Brandon was aware of the prominence of this feature, and felt
sensitive about it. As a boy he had been annoyed by the jocose allusions
of his school-fellows to it, and nothing disturbed his temper more now
than any reference to it, or even a significant glance at it. Jack Rodman
had observed this peculiarity in the captain, and determined to take
advantage of it in order to get Harry into trouble.
One night, unobserved as he supposed, he drew with a piece of chalk
a rude caricature of the captain’s face, in a part of the vessel
where it would be likely to be seen by Brandon. The size of the nose
was exaggerated, but there was also in the other features a general
resemblance to the captain, so that it was quite evident who was meant.
Jack supposed that he was unobserved, and so he might have been but for
the accidental approach of the supercargo.
Mr. Weldon glanced at what Jack was doing, and a smile came to his face.
He was rather amused by the caricature, and, having no very particular
regard for the captain, passed on in silence, not feeling called upon to
interfere.
The next morning Captain Brandon, in pacing the deck, suddenly came face
to face with the caricature, which had not been effaced.
Instantly the blood rushed to his face. He could see the resemblance
himself; and that made the matter worse. He felt that it was an insult to
him, and he determined to visit condign punishment upon the perpetrator
of the insulting joke, if he could find him out.
“Who did this?” he roared out, at the top of his voice.
The vehemence of his tone attracted general attention. The sailors looked
at one another, and exchanged sly glances indicative of amusement.
“Who did this?” exclaimed the captain, again, stamping in rage.
Nobody answered.
“Why don’t you answer, some of you?” continued the angry captain. “Point
out the man, and I’ll flog him till he can’t stand.”
Even this inducement was not sufficient to extract the name of the
culprit.
Captain Brandon resolved to use other means.
“I’ll give five dollars to the man who’ll tell me who drew this figure.”
Jack Rodman came on deck just as this offer was made. His eyes sparkled
with joy. He not only had it in his power to get Harry into trouble, but
he would be rewarded for doing it. This was more than he had bargained
for, but Jack reflected that the money would be very acceptable to him
when he got on shore.
“I know who did it, Captain Brandon,” he said, touching his hat.
“Ah!” said the captain, turning towards Jack. “Tell me at once, then.”
“_He_ did it,” said Jack, pointing out Harry, who, like the rest, was an
interested spectator of the scene.
“Did _he_ do it?” growled Brandon, looking menacingly at our hero.
“Yes, I saw him do it.”
“When did he do it?”
“Last evening.”
By the time Harry, who had been struck dumb by the suddenness of the
accusation, and the evident malice of Jack, recovered himself, and said
boldly:—
“Captain Brandon, that is a lie, and Jack Rodman knows it is. I know
nothing of the figure, and had nothing to do with it.”
“I saw you do it,” said Jack, with a malicious grin.
“I have no doubt he did it,” said the captain, furiously. “Strip him, and
well give him a taste of the lash.”