"Well, there, show him in."
The next minute the maid re-opened the door, showing in a heavy,
sun-tanned, middle-aged man, who thrust the cap he carried into the
yawning pocket of a dark blue pea-jacket, stared hard at the doctor,
glanced at Rodd, and then turning sharply on his heels he stood with his
back to the latter, stiff, squared, and sturdy, looking as the boy
thought like a hop-sack set on end, and stared at the maid where she
stopped, literally fixing her with his eyes for a few moments, before,
quite startled at the fierceness of his gaze, she darted out, closing
the door loudly.
"Business. Private!" literally growled the visitor.
"Well, what is it?" said the doctor shortly.
"'Eard you wanted a skipper, and come up."
"Well," said Uncle Paul, looking very hard at his unprepossessing
visitor, while Rodd felt as if he wanted to laugh, but held the desire
in check, "I may want one by and by, and a crew too; but I must have a
ship first."
"What sort?"
"Well, you are pretty blunt," said the doctor.
"Yes," said the visitor, with a nod; and he waited, but turned his eyes
from the doctor and looked very hard at the nearest chair.
"Ah, yes," said the doctor. "Sit down, Captain--Captain--"
The doctor waited for an answer, but the only answer made was by a
movement, his visitor taking two steps towards the chair, and plumping
down so heavily that the brass casters creaked.
The doctor glanced at his nephew, and then at the stranger, who seemed
to be frowning at him with all his might.
"Er--what did you say your name was, captain?"
"Didn't say," said the visitor huskily. "Wanter know?"
"Well--yes," said the doctor. "I don't see how we are to transact
business without."
"Chubb, Jonathan."
"Well, Captain Chubb?"
"Plymouth."
"Oh, I see; Captain Chubb, of Plymouth," continued the doctor.
"Right. Go on."
"Well, I gave you to understand that I wanted a ship before I engaged a
captain."
"Skipper; not R.N."
"I see; but I wished to be polite," said the doctor.
"Skipper," grunted the man.
"Where have you sailed?" asked the doctor.
"Everywhere."
"Ah! Then you have had plenty of experience."
The visitor nodded, and the doctor was going to speak again, but the
visitor interposed with a sidewise nod in the direction of Rodd, and
said--
"Your boy?"
"Well, yes, in a way," replied the doctor.
The captain grunted.
"Boys always are," he said, and Rodd turned upon him angrily.
"I said in _a_ way, not in _the_ way," muttered the doctor.
"'Most the same," growled the captain. "A boy, the boy, means boy.
What sort of a ship? First, where do you want to go?"
"I don't quite know myself," replied the doctor, "so we will say as you
did, everywhere."
"Right," said the captain. "What for?"
"Why do you ask?" replied the doctor, rather tartly.
"Had four offers. Wouldn't take them."
"Why?" asked the doctor.
"Smuggling contraband."
"Oh, I see," said the doctor quickly. "Well, it's nothing of that
sort."
"When do you sail?"
"As soon as I can get a ship."
"Plenty lying about waiting for cargo. Take your choice."
"That seems to be easier said than done, captain, for I am hard to
please."
"So'm I," said the visitor, staring hard at Rodd, beginning with the
crown of his head and then looking him slowly down where he sat till he
reached the carpet by Rodd's right foot, and then making his eyes cross
over, he began at the toe of the boy's left foot and slowly looked him
up to where he had started at the top of the boy's forehead, where a
tickling sensation had commenced, consequent upon the starting out of a
faint dew of perspiration.
"I'm glad to hear it," said the doctor, "for I want a well-found craft,
new or nearly so, built of the best materials."
"Good; ought to be. What sort?"
"Well, I should like a large schooner, fast and with plenty of room
below."
"Cargo?" grunted the captain.
"No. Provisions, etcetera," said the doctor, who was beginning to feel
annoyed.
"Ho!" came in a grunt, and then after a keen look at Rodd's uncle, he
uttered the one word, "Weepens?"
"Weepens?" said the doctor.
"Yes. Long Tom and small-arms."
"Oh, arms. Yes, I should certainly have one of those big swivel guns
amidships, and a couple of smaller ones, as well as muskets, cutlasses
and boarding pikes."
So far the captain's features seemed as if they had been carved out of
solid mahogany, but now they began to relax; his lips parted, and he
showed a small even set of beautifully white teeth, while his eyes
looked brighter to Rodd and seemed to twinkle; but he remained silent.
"Well," said the doctor, "what are you laughing at?"
He checked the word which had nearly escaped his lips, because he
thought it would be rude, and he did not say grinning.
"Cat," said the man solemnly, and to Rodd's great discomposure he turned
to him and winked.
"Cat?" said the doctor sharply.
"Ay, ay! Out of the bag."
"I don't understand you," said the doctor warmly.
"Won't do for me, master. Not in my way."
"Well," said the doctor, "I am afraid I must say you are not in my way."
"Poor beggars!"
"Well, really, my good man," began the doctor, "I am a bit of a student,
and take a good deal of interest in natural history. Cats may be poor
beggars, but that is no business of mine."
"Yes, if you are going to sail. Think of your crew."
"I am thinking of my crew, and I want to engage one," said the doctor.
"Men hate black cats. Unlucky."
"I have heard of that superstition before, Captain Chubb," said the
doctor, "but that seems to be quite outside our business now. As a
captain--or skipper--I should have thought you would have been above
such childish notions."
"Am," said the man. "T'other won't do for me. I've seen it all. Won't
get a skipper from this port."
"Why?" said the doctor indignantly. "I am ready to give an experienced
captain good payment."
"Want commission."
"Oh, nonsense! I couldn't pay on commission."
"Nowt to me. That's what a skipper would want. Ought to be ashamed of
yourself."
"Well, of all--" began the doctor; but the skipper did not let him
finish.
"Too bad," he said, growling; "and to take a boy like that!"
"My good fellow," said the doctor, "if I choose to take my nephew with
me upon a natural history expedition--"
"Natural history expedition! Catching blackbirds! Oh, I say!"
He shook his head slowly at the doctor, whose face grew so red with
wrath as he turned towards Rodd, and looked so comical, that the boy
could not contain himself, but bent his face down into his hands and
burst into a roar of laughter.
"You are a nice 'un," grunted the captain, shaking his head now at Rodd.
"You'll grow into a beauty!"
It was the boy's turn to look angry now, and he glanced from the captain
to his uncle and back.
"Look here, youngster," cried the captain; "Guinea Coast, eh?"
"Possibly," said the doctor.
"Bight of Benin?"
"Maybe," said the doctor, the short speech seeming contagious.
"Ketch the fever?"
"Probably," said the doctor.
"Both on yer."
"Well, sir, I shall risk that," continued the doctor.
"Both on yer off your heads, seeing niggers. Rattling their chains."
"Are you mad, man?" cried the doctor. "Yes."
"I thought so."
"Makes me. Call yourself a Christian! Give it up, and do something
honest."
"Well, of all--" cried the doctor again.
"Good five guineas better than five hundred got by buying and selling
your fellow-creatures," continued the captain, who was growing quite
fluent. "Go to Bristol with you! Won't do for me."
"Mr--I mean, Captain Chubb," began the doctor, "allow me to tell you
that you have done nothing but insult me ever since you have been here."
"Honesty," grunted the captain.
"Honesty is no excuse for rudeness, sir. Now have the goodness to go."
"Going," said the captain, rising. "But you are a bad man. To take
that boy with you too! Shame!"
"Will you have the goodness to tell me what you mean, sir?"
"No good to bully, sir. I know. Off on the slave trade."
"What!" cried the doctor.
"But look out. King's cruiser will nab you. Sarve you right."
He moved stiffly, and took two steps towards the door, but stopped and
turned sharply upon Rodd, clapped his big hairy hand on the boy's
shoulder, and gripped it fast. "He's a bad 'un, boy. Don't go." Rodd
glanced at his uncle, who was staring with bewilderment, while he, who
during the last few minutes had seen clearly what their visitor meant,
burst into another roar of laughter and gripped the skipper by the
jacket, as he turned to the doctor.
"No, no," he stuttered. "No, no; don't go, captain! Uncle Paul, can't
you see? He thinks you are going to the West Coast to buy slaves!"
"Well!" cried Uncle Paul, his voice sounding like ten ejaculations
squeezed into one--"Well!"