"MR. BERNARD,--I can't go with you. Let Joe Chester go, please. I did
the mischief, and was afraid to tell. Ban Carver knew about it, but did
not do it. We are going off together. Please send our fathers word that
we are safe.--Respectfully yours,
"RALPH DRAYTON.
"_P.S._--I was never sorrier in my life, Mr. Bernard."
"There, Ben, how does that sound?" he asked, throwing the letter across
the table to his companion.
[Illustration: "There, Ben, how does that sound?" he asked.]
Ben laughed as he read it, and said, "Nothing could be better. I
couldn't have done it so well myself."
"Seal it then, please. I don't want to read it over."
"Now, shall we start, or go to bed for an hour or two?" asked Ben, as
the arrangements were all completed.
"I am afraid we would oversleep, and not get away till daylight, if we
lie down. Let's sit up and talk till after midnight. We want to start
before the first streak of light."
"All right."
They chatted a while, and then grew sleepy. So after finding himself
nodding a number of times, Ralph said, "Let's just take a short nap,
Ben."
"So I say."
Folding their arms on the table for a pillow, the boys dropped their
heads upon them, and were speedily sleeping soundly. They might have
slept till the rising-bell rang, only Ralph was awakened by a fearful
dream, in which he thought Mr. Bernard had seized him, and was trying to
hold him under the water as a punishment for lying, to wash off the sin
of it, Ralph thought. He started up so violently that he nearly fell
over backward.
"What! what's the matter?" cried Ben in alarm.
"Nothing but a dream," said Ralph laughing. "But it is lucky I had it,
for it is getting toward morning, and we may as well be stealing out.
We had better take our boots in our hands and just crawl, those
confounded stairs squeak so!"
Taking their valises, the boys, with a parting glance around the room to
see if they had left anything, opened the door softly, and crept
downstairs cautiously, waiting long after each step; for, as Ralph had
said, they did creak unmercifully, as if in a league to betray them.
They knew the boys, their schoolmates, were too soundly sleeping to be
disturbed, and if Mr. Andrews, whose room was at the farther end of the
hall, did not hear them, they were safe.
They were down at last; and, unlocking the outer door, they stepped
outside, and closed it carefully behind them.
"Good!" whispered Ben. "Now put on your boots, and away you go."
The moon was down long ago, and only the stars gave light to the
runaways as they hastened through the Academy garden and over the fence
into the field leading to the shore, feeling that every bush by the way
might have some one behind to arrest them.
Everything on the Cape was quiet.
There were several vessels at the wharf, but if manned at all, it was by
a sleeping crew. They crept under the outside stairs leading to the
second story of a sail-loft, and waited impatiently and uncomfortably
for daylight.
"It seems like a graveyard or a funeral. I hate things so still,"
whispered Ben, as if whispering were necessary in such stillness.
"It is an hour yet before daylight," said Ralph, looking at his watch.
"We may as well have a nap."
"If we can get one. Oh, how cold it is down here!"
The boys crept closer together for warmth, and with their heads on their
knees tried to sleep; and after much turning and twisting, and grumbling
at the hard seat, and shivering in the cold night air as it blew across
the water, they at last fell asleep.
*CHAPTER XIII.*
*ON BOARD THE "UNA."*
It was broad daylight when the boys waked again, cold and cramped from
their uncomfortable position, and they found the men beginning to stir
about on the vessels at the wharf, washing the decks and overhauling
rigging.
It was some time before Ralph and Ben could find courage to venture
forth from their hiding-place.
"But it is no use to wait. We must go. Unless we can get away before
the steamboat comes, we will have to skulk off and try another plan.
Come on; I'll ask."
Dire necessity gave Ralph courage; and motioning Ben to follow, he went
on the wharf and hailed the first man he saw: "Are you the captain of
that ship?"
"It ain't a ship, sonny, and I ain't the cap'n by a long chalk. Why?"
"I wanted to know when you expect to sail."
"Sail! we are just in; cargo all in the hold," said the sailor
good-naturedly, relighting his pipe, and looking curiously at the two
boys. "What d'ye want to know for? Don't want to ship, do you?"
"Not exactly; we want to go as passengers on a sea-voyage."
"Where do you want to go?"
"Oh, nowhere in particular."
"I never sailed to that port," said the sailor, laughing as well as he
could and still hold on to his pipe with his teeth.
"Is there any vessel going to sail from here to-day?" asked Ben.
"Well, now, there isn't a very big fleet here. If any of 'em was going
to start soon, you'd be likely to see some stirring about. There's a
little smack over the other side, just goin' out; but that ain't your
style, I reckon."
The boys looked in the direction indicated by the sailor's tar-stained
thumb, and saw the sails going up.
"Let's go over there, Ben," said Ralph, pulling his companion's arm.
They were soon at the vessel's side, and as the crew only numbered two,
and only one of these was a full-grown man, it was not difficult to know
who was the captain.
Ralph, cap in hand, asked politely, "Captain, can you take two
passengers?"
"Two what?" roared the captain as he gave a final pull, and fastened the
sheets around a belaying-pin.
"Passengers," answered Ralph meekly, feeling very much like retreating
before the roar.
"Do you take this for a Cunarder?"
Ralph and Ben laughed, and said, "No; we see it is nothing but a
fishing-smack."
"Nothing but--humph, you little land-lubbers, don't you know this craft
will beat anything else afloat?"
"Will it?" asked Ralph, eying the craft narrowly. "It looks as if it
might. Will you take us?"
"Humph! you want to go fishing, do you? Your clothes look like that
business. Got any overalls anywhere about you?"
"No, but we have thick old things in our valises."
"If you'll take us, captain, we will pay you just what you ask. We'll
give you ten pounds," said Ben recklessly, with his hand in his pocket
grasping the little red pocket-book that contained just that sum, sent
by his father to defray his part of the camp expenses.
The captain whistled, and said, "Money's plenty! I ain't quite such a
highway robber as to take ten pounds. What do you want to go for?"
"Oh, for fun, and for our health! The doctors have ordered a sea-voyage
for us, we've been studying so hard."
"There now, Ben! What did you say last night about lying?" interrupted
Ralph.
"No, captain, we want to go on a voyage, and we've got the money to pay
for the trip. Won't you take us?"
"Well, now, I don't know about that. You are running away from home,
you two chaps; I know you be."
"No, honest!" said Ben. "We are hundreds of miles away from home now,
and our fathers don't expect us back for over a month yet. It's
vacation now, and we want to go somewhere: that's what father sent me
the money for."
"I don't know whether you are tellin' the truth or lyin', boys."
"That's the truth," said Ben, "every word of it."
"You ain't used to quarters like mine. Look down in that cabin!"
The boys looked down, and felt that he was right; but Ralph answered
bravely,--
"Oh, pooh, we don't mind! we can stand anything you can."
"You can now--eh? Ha, ha, ha!---Marcus, they can stand anything I
can--ha, ha, ha!"
It was very aggravating to hear the two men laughing at their expense,
but the boys joined in the laugh, and insisted that they could.
"How about fare? Like pretty good food, I reckon; don't you now?"
"Oh, we don't care what it is, if we only get enough. We expect to rough
it."
"Oh, you do! Well, now, you ain't never sea-sick nor nothin'; are you?"
"Oh, sea-sick! No; I've been on the lake many a time when it was rough
enough," said Ben loftily.
"Oh, the lake! yes, I see.--Then of course they won't be sea-sick in a
chop sea here, Marcus; will they?"
Marcus only answered with a provoking chuckle.
"I declare I've a good mind to take you, just to take the conceit out of
you."
"We don't care what you do it for, if you only say we can go," said Ben
laughing.
"Have you got pork and potatoes aboard, enough to keep two more,
Marcus?"
"Ye-es," drawled Marcus; "they won't draw very heavy on the food."
"No; that's so, poor wretches!--I tell you, boys, it won't be fun going
in a fishing-smack. Rough seas like enough, and rough quarters, and
rough fare."
"We know that--we expect that; we'll promise not to grumble," said
Ralph.
"And we'll pay you well, captain," added Ben.
"Well, now, wait till we see how much trouble you make before you talk
about the pay. I don't believe I ought to take you; but I'd like to
have you get enough of it for once."
"Then we may come! Wait till we get our luggage."
"Luggage!" cried the captain in alarm; "how much have you got?"
"Oh, only two valises;" and away darted the boys toward the sail-loft,
and a minute later leaped on to the dingy little vessel; and with some
misgivings, but a feeling of relief, they sat down forward of the cabin,
and watched the men push off.
"My native land, farewell,--farewell," hummed Ben as they moved away
from the wharf.
"Oh, hush, Ben!" said Ralph dolefully.
The men were too busy, as they tacked about to get before the wind, to
notice their passengers, and they talked together about the boys and the
commotion there would be when their absence was discovered.
The _Una_ was bound outside for mackerel, and her deck was covered with
empty barrels for their reception.
She was, as the captain had boasted, a swift sailer, and once before the
wind she fairly flew through the waves, throwing the spray over her deck
in a shower; and, excited by the novelty of their situation, Ralph and
Ben quite enjoyed the sail.
They had followed the captain's advice, and changed their clothes,
putting on the heaviest and warmest garments they owned.
Marcus, they found, was man-of-all-work on board, and Captain Dare was a
host in himself--more at home on the sea than on the land, and needing
little help during the summer months in the management of the little
craft, of which he was sole owner.
The breakfast consisted of fried pork, fried potatoes, and biscuits; and
it tasted good to the boys with their keen appetites.
After a while Ralph and Ben both began to feel like keeping quiet; and
the captain, who was watching them as he smoked and tended the sails,
saw that Ralph was growing pale.
"There it comes!" he thought. "Now won't they wish themselves high and
dry on the shore?--How do you like it, boys?"
"Splendid!" cried Ben, who was wiping the spray from his face.
Ralph said nothing, but smiled a ghastly smile.
"What's your names, boys? I haven't heard yet."
"I'm Ben Carver; my folks live in--Why, what's the matter, Ralph? you
look like a ghost!"
"He feels like one too, I'll be bound!" exclaimed Marcus, who was
scraping the breakfast refuse over the side of the vessel.
"Are you sick, Ralph?" asked Ben, putting his hand on him.
"A little, but it will soon be gone," said Ralph, trying to brace
himself against the terrible feeling that had seized upon him.
"P'raps it will, and p'raps it won't," said Marcus with a laugh.
"Get rid o' them potatoes and things, and then you'll feel better," said
the captain kindly.--"Marcus, mix him some hot ginger."
Ben was feeling very well still, or he forgot himself in waiting upon
his friend, making him as comfortable as possible in the bow of the
boat, where the breeze would blow over him, and where he was out of the
way.
It was so cool that Ben brought their blankets and tucked them around
Ralph, who was shivering.
"Cheer up, comrade! we are miles away from Saint Bernard and his
cherubs; and after you get over this bad turn we'll have a jolly time,
and no thanks to them!"
Ralph nodded, and rewarded him with a dismal smile.
Ben had hardly got his friend snugly tucked away in the blankets, when
he glanced back shoreward and saw the steamboat making straight toward
them apparently.
"Ralph Drayton, there's the steamboat covered with our boys! Let's get
out of this as quick as we can. They'll see us!"
Ralph forgot his misery, and throwing off his blankets, he looked
quickly in the direction indicated by Ben.
Sure enough! The boat was coming with its crowd of merry boys, and the
band playing gaily.
Without a word the two boys crept along the side of the cabin away from
the steamboat, and disappeared in the depths below.
The captain saw them, and being keen at noting signs, he guessed at once
that his passengers were runaways from the party on the boat. "But it
beats me what they wanted to run away from a good time for! I ain't got
to the core of that apple yet," he soliloquized with a puzzled look.
Ralph and Ben remained in close confinement until long after the boat
had passed the smack, not daring to look out themselves, nor to ask
either of the men on deck, fearing that they in turn might ask questions
that would be disagreeable to answer. At length Ralph gasped, "O Ben,
just look out; I can't stay in this horrid place any longer!"
Ben went up the steps and peeped around the end of the cabin.
"Good! they are away off where they can't see us. Come on; I'll help you
up."
"I'd like to know what you two fellows ran down below for just then?"
said the captain.
The boys pretended not to hear the remark; and just then Marcus shouted,
"There's a school!"
The boys turned in alarm, thinking only of their own affairs and the
only school that interested them; but the captain, turning the vessel's
bow, quickly answered, "Good! Bring the lines and bait."
The lines were soon ready, the bait thrown overboard, and the vessel
brought-to before the wind.
As they drew near the "school," and could see the countless multitudes
fairly leaping, Ben forgot his disgust over the ill-smelling bait, and
eagerly watched the fishermen as they dexterously tended the lines and
landed their flapping prey on the deck.
Ralph was too sick to give any more than a passing glance at the work;
but Ben cried, "That's the fun!--Give me some hooks, Marcus, and let me
help."
"Help yourself! there's plenty there. One will be all you can manage
though," said Marcus, snapping a fish from one of the hooks with a jerk.
"Come on, Ralph! perhaps you'll feel better to stir about. Shan't I get
you a line? I tell you it looks lively out here! The water is all
alive with fish, just jumping and turning somersaults--regular
acrobats!"
A groan from under the blankets was the only reply, and Ben proceeded to
use his hook and line as he saw the others do.
It was rare sport, and in his excitement he forgot that he had felt at
all sea-sick.
As soon, however, as the "school" had passed, and the last fish had been
pulled in, Ben felt some of the disgust returning. There lay the
slippery fish scattered over the deck, flapping still, and refusing to
die. Beautiful fish they were, banded and mottled with green and blue
and purple; but Ben turned away from them with a shudder, which was
changed into a groan as the two men began to dress them for packing.
"Want to help, boys?" asked the captain, with a wink at Marcus.
"Not much, captain."
"Ralph, this is going to be horrid," he whispered, as he threw himself
down by his friend, and put his head under the blanket with him.
"Going to be? Isn't it already? I hope it won't get any worse,"
groaned Ralph. "How long do you suppose the voyage will last?"
"Oh, I don't know; how long do you?"
"And where are we going?"
"Sure enough, we didn't ask."
"Well, wherever it is, we are in for it now, and have got to make the
best of it."
A prolonged groan was the only answer.
*CHAPTER XIV.*
*TRIBULATIONS.*
The two men worked steadily and cheerily over the fish, sorting and
dressing and packing them in salt, only leaving off long enough to eat
some bread and cheese with dry salt codfish.
"Come, boys, dinner's ready. Step up and help yourselves," said the
captain, with his mouth full of bread and cheese, which he had made into
a sandwich for convenience and speed.
"We don't feel hungry," answered Ben, looking out from the blanket long
enough to see that the captain was complacently munching his food as he
sat astride of the board on which he had been dressing the fish.
"Don't feel hungry! That's queer. _I_ do, now. This salt air ought to
make you eat like a shark," exclaimed the captain, as he set his teeth
through an enormous piece of dried cod. "I'm hungry enough to eat those
mackerel raw, if there was nothing else handy."
"Oh, don't!" groaned Ralph, crawling further under the blanket, and
feeling his stomach rise up and roll over uneasily.
All the afternoon the fishermen worked over their "catch," and the boys
did not venture out from their retreat until a great splashing of water
told them that Marcus was washing the deck. Then they began to look
around and breathe in the sea air, that seemed to bring a revival of
spirits to the boys.
Before supper-time another school of mackerel came by, and the lines
were again thrown out, and lively work recommenced.
The two boys watched the sport as the men tended their lines so
dexterously, going from one to another, and keeping a fish in the air
continually, as Ben said.
[Illustration: The two boys watched the sport.]
This was exciting enough to make even Ralph forget his sea-sickness for
the time; but when the "school" had passed, the work of dressing
mackerel began again, and this was not at all soothing to disturbed
stomachs.
"Let's go to bed, and get out of this, Ben," exclaimed Ralph in disgust.
"All right."
They tiptoed by the pile of fish that were still flapping feebly, and
looked down into the cabin. It was not an inviting place, and Ralph
hesitated.
"Going to turn in, boys?" asked the captain, thrusting his knife into a
fish before he looked up.
"Yes, we thought of it."
"Without any supper? That will never do. Help yourselves in there.
The biscuit-barrel's in the corner, and the codfish hangs right over it.
Eat a good meal, and you'll feel better. There ain't nothin' equal to
dry codfish for turning sea-sickness."
"Thanks; but we don't feel hungry," said Ben.
"That's queer. It beats me how anybody can be out to sea and not feel
hungry! Well, a night's rest will make you better, like as not. You'll
sleep like a couple of tops; that is, if you've got good clean
consciences afore God."
The boys made no reply.
"I hope you have. It's bad work being out to sea, or anywhere else, for
that matter, with anything lying heavy on your conscience. Now, I don't
pretend to be any guide for any one. I'm bad enough myself; but I
always says every night, 'Just look me over, Lord, and if there is any
bad in me'--and of course I know there is plenty of it--'forgive it, and
help me to start better to-morrow.' It's mighty comfortin' for me to
know that He sees that I _mean_ fairer than I _do_."
After these remarks the captain finished dressing the fish he held on
the board, and the boys disappeared down the short flight of steps
leading into the cabin.
It was a close place there, and filled with odours of fish; in fact the
whole vessel seemed to be stuccoed with fish-scales.
"Are we first or second cabin passengers, Ralph?" asked Ben laughingly,
"or are we steerage?"
"Steerage, sure enough!"
"Well, it isn't the worst place that ever was. I'd rather be here than
outside there in the sea, with a shark after me," continued Ben, who was
far more inclined than Ralph to be jolly under difficulties.
"Bad as it is, I'd rather be here than on the island camping out, with
Joe Chester left behind," said Ralph.
"Yes, of course you would. If I had my fiddle here I'd cheer you up;
that is, if I didn't feel kind of gone about my own stomach." And Ben
sat down suddenly on the captain's green chest in the corner, looking
very pale.
It was Ralph's turn now to wait upon _him_, and putting his head out of
the door he shouted, "Captain, where shall we sleep?"
"Oh, anywhere you've a mind to. Take the bunks if you want to. Marcus
and I'll look out for ourselves."
Ralph looked sharply at the rough bed, and said, "It isn't a royal
couch, but tumble in, Ben." Ben was too sick to care where he went, and
letting Ralph pull off his boots and coat, he literally tumbled in, as
requested.
Whether it was a lack of good consciences that the old captain had
spoken of, or the strangeness of their situation, or the awful
sea-sickness, the boys could not sleep. They lay and tossed in their
close berths, listening to the "thud" and "swish" of the waves against
the sides of the little vessel, and the creak of the yards, as the
canvas swung around in the wind.
It was a bright moonlight night, and the fishing was good, so the noise
on deck continued nearly all night, making it still more impossible for
the boys to sleep, until, their labours being over, Marcus came below
for a nap. Rolling himself in a blanket, he dropped down in the corner
of the cabin, and in less than five minutes he was snoring loud enough
to drown the creak of the sails.
Ralph and Ben slept at last, and were only aroused in the morning by the
captain's voice as he hailed another fishing-vessel. Marcus was
preparing breakfast, and the odour of the coffee came into the cabin to
tempt the boys.
"That smells good," cried Ben, throwing off his blanket. "Let's get out
of this pen, Ralph, as quick as ever we can. I believe I'm hungry."
"Good!" said the captain, looking down into the little cabin, having
overheard the exclamation. "How fare ye this morning?"
The boys answered as cheerily as they could, and hastening up on deck,
they washed their faces and hands in sea water, and were ready for
breakfast.
The deck was scrubbed clean, and the sea air was pure and sweet. Even
Ralph felt hungry, and the fried mackerel, with biscuits and coffee,
tasted very good. The fishing was dull that day; no schools of mackerel
were to be seen, and the men busied themselves with trolling for cod and
hake, or anything that would bite; and before night a long row of fish
was spread out on the top of the cabin to dry, much to the boys'
disgust. The second night was passed much like the first, in trying to
become accustomed to their close quarters; and the third was much like
the second. The only excitement was in running down schools of fish; but
as this was always followed by the disagreeable work of dressing them,
the dainty passengers were earnestly hoping they might not see any more.
"How long before you go ashore, captain?" asked Ben, as he walked the
deck uneasily.
"Oh, when I get my load."
"But what do you call a load?"
"Now, that's a question I never could answer. I never saw the time I
couldn't get on one more haul of fish. A smack is like an omnibus--it
always has room for one more," said the captain laughing.
"You are pretty full now."
"Bless you, no! This isn't a trifle to what we ought to do. Mighty
poor fishing this trip. Reckon I've got a Jonah aboard."
"A couple of them, perhaps," answered Ben, with a wink at Ralph.
"The fog is coming on," continued the captain, looking off seaward. "We
shan't be able to see our hands afore our faces to-night, like as not."
"What do you do in a fog?" asked Ralph eagerly.
"Do? why, we make the best of it, boy. What do you suppose?"
"I thought, perhaps, you went ashore, or anchored somewhere," said Ralph
hesitatingly.
"Oh, you did? The fog lasts two or three weeks sometimes. No; we go
ahead, and catch every fish we can."
"Aren't you afraid some other vessel will run you down?"
"It would be about as bad for her as it would for us," answered the
captain, puffing the smoke from his pipe contentedly. "I'd rather have
it pleasant; but we don't have the ordering of the weather, and I've
fallen into the way of making the best of things--weather and everything
else. If it's good weather, I'm glad; if it isn't, I don't fret. If
the fish bite, I'm glad; if they don't, I just stay out the longer; and
sooner or later I get a good load. It don't do no good to be frettin'
and fussin'."
The captain's words did not cheer the boys. They felt far from
contented at the prospect of a fog at sea; and when it came rolling in
and closing down around them, hiding not only the strip of shore in the
distance, but also the island and the other vessels that were near them,
they wished themselves on shore more earnestly than ever.
"We didn't bargain for this," said Ben, making a wry face at his
companion.
"No, nor for anything else we have had. I'd rather be in the Rocky
Mountains," grumbled Ralph.
"So had I, or on the top of the North Pole, provided it is planted in
solid ground instead of water," was Ben's laughing reply.
"I'm in earnest. I hate the sea. I'm afraid of it just as soon as it
begins to be rough. I don't see what possessed us to come to sea,"
continued Ralph, peering uneasily through the fog.
"We couldn't help it, if I recollect right," said Ben. "There wasn't any
place to run to on land, so we took to the water like musk-rats. But we
are all right. Captain Dare knows everything about vessels and fogs. I
am not going to worry myself about it at any rate, unless a big storm
comes; then I suppose I would be scared enough."
*CHAPTER XV.*
*THE LITTLE CABIN.*
The captain indulged in an afternoon nap, to be in readiness for a
watchful night; and the fog grew thicker and heavier as the evening came
on.
The great lantern was lighted early, and the wall of fog reflected the
light back in a weird, ghostly way upon the boys, who sat in the bow,
dreading to go down into the little cabin.
"I feel as if we were shut up in a tomb of fog," said Ralph dismally.
"Well, if 'misery likes company,' it may make you happier to know the
other boys are in the fog too, over on the island," returned Ben.
"Yes, but they have solid ground under their feet, and are not likely to
be run down as we are; besides, they'll have a jolly time in spite of
the fog. I know I could if I were on shore and not sea-sick, and that
fog-horn of Marcus's didn't sound so dismal. I wonder how many blasts
he blows in a minute?"
"Let's go to bed; morning will come quicker," exclaimed Ben in
desperation.
"If we could only sleep."
"Well, we did pretty well last night."
"Pretty well; but the cabin is so fishy and musty, and my stomach rolls
over so many times in a minute, I can't sleep," complained Ralph.
"'Hark, from the tombs, a doleful sound,'" said Ben, and then laughed in
spite of his discomfort. "We sit here and croak like a couple of ravens,
and Marcus toots that everlasting horn; let's go below and try that," he
continued.
Ralph arose and staggered to the cabin steps, said good-night to the
captain and Marcus, and, followed by Ben, crept into his berth. Ben
tried to sing one of the school glees to cheer himself and friend, and
forget his sea-sickness.
"Oh, hush, Ben! That makes me as homesick as a cat. I tell you that
little room of ours at school was an awful cosy place, after all. Just
think of that bed. We used to call that hard."
"Yes, and that grate where we had a fire on cold nights."
"We used to rail at it and call it stuffy, but if we were only there now
I'd feel like dancing."
Ben struck up another tune, and hummed it through, chorus and all, to
try to keep from utter wretchedness.