CHAPTER III.

"The mariners shout,

The ships swing about.

The yards are all hoisted,

The sails flutter out."

_The Saga of King Olaf_.

The docks were very quiet now. Only a few footfalls broke the silence,

and the water sobbed a little round the piles, and there was some

creaking and groaning and grinding, and the vessels drifted at their

moorings, and bumped against the wharves.

The watchman paced up and down, and up and down. I did not hear him very

clearly from under the tarpaulin, and sometimes when he went farther

away I did not hear him at all. At last I was so long without hearing

him that I peeped cautiously out. What Biddy had said might be, seemed

really to have happened. The watchman was sitting in a sort of arm-chair

of ironbound cotton-bales; his long coat was tucked between his legs,

his hat was over his nose, and he was fast asleep.

I did not need any one to tell me that now was my time; but it was with

limbs that almost refused their office from sheer fright, that I crept

past the sleeping man, and reached the edge of the wharf. There was the

vessel moving very slightly, and groaning dismally as she moved, and

there was the hole, and it was temptingly dark. But--the gangway that

had been laid across from the wharf was gone! I could have jumped the

chasm easily with a run, but I dared not take a run. If I did it at all

it must be done standing. I tried to fetch a breath free from

heart-throbs, but in vain; so I set my teeth, and pulled nerves and

sinews together and jumped.

It was too much for me, and I jumped short and fell. Then my training

under the half-caste told in my favour. I caught the edge of the hole

with my hands, and swung suspended over the water, with quite presence

of mind enough to hear and think of what was going on about me. What I

heard was the watchman, who roused up to call out, "Who's there?" and

then he shot a sharp ray of light from his lantern right into the hole.

It was very lucky for me that I was so low, for the light went over my

head, and he saw nothing of me, my dark clothes making no mark against

the ship's black hull.

My head was cool enough now, and my heart steady, and I listened with an

intensity that postponed fear, though my predicament was not a pleasant

one, and the rippling water below me was confusing.

The suspense was no doubt shorter than it seemed, before the light

disappeared, and with a thankful heart I distinctly heard the watchman

flop down again among the cotton-bales. Then I drew myself up over the

edge and crept noiselessly into the ship. I took care to creep beyond

reach of the lantern, and then the swaying of the vessel made me feel so

giddy that I had to lie still for a while where I was, before I could

recover myself enough to feel about for a suitable hiding-place.

As I afterwards learnt, I was on the lower deck, which was being used

for cargo instead of passengers. The said cargo seemed so tightly

packed, that in spite of creeping, and groping, and knocking myself

pretty hard, I could feel no nook or corner to my mind. Then I turned

giddy again and reeled against the door of a cabin, which gave way so

far as to let me fall inwards on to a heap of old sails, ropes, and

other softish ship lumber stowed away within. As I fell my hand struck

something warm, which I fancied gave a writhe out of my grasp. I groped

and seized it again, and now there was no mistake. It was somebody's

arm, who said in a quick undertone, "Gently, gently, sirs; I'm coming

along with ye. I'll gie ye my word I'm after no harm."

I was taken aback, but thought it well to keep up my position, which

appeared to be one of advantage. The young man (for it was a youngster's

voice) was evidently no ship's officer. If he were a dockyard pilferer,

it was a nuisance, and a complication in my affairs, but I might pull

through the difficulty with presence of mind.

"Speak low!" I whispered sharply. "What's your name, and where do you

come from?"

"Alister Auchterlay, they call me" (the whisper was a reluctant one, but

I jogged his arm rather fiercely to shake the truth out of him). "I come

from Aberdeenshire. But, man! if ye're for having me up in court, for

GOD'S sake let me plead in another name, for my mother taks the papers."

"What are you doing here?" I whispered in a not very steady whisper, as

I think my prisoner detected.

"I'm just stowing away," he said eagerly; "I'm no harming a thing. Eh,

sir, if you're a ship's 'prentice, or whatever may be your duties on

this vessel, let me bide! There's scores of stowaways taken every day,

and I'll work as few could."

"Do, _do_ try and speak low," I whispered; "or we shall both be found

out _I'm stowing away myself_!"

"Whew, laddie! How long will ye have been in Liverpool?"

"Only to-day. How long have you been here?"

"A week, and a sore week too."

"You've no friends here, have you?"

"Freens, did ye say? I've no freens nearer than Scotland."

"You must have had a hard time of it," I whispered.

"Ye may say so. I've slept four nights in the docks, and never managed

to stow till to-night. There's a watchman about."

"I know," said I.

"I shouldn't have got in to-night, but the misconducted body's asleep,

though I'll say it's the first time I saw him sleeping these four days.

Eh, sirs! there's an awful indifference to responsibility, when a man

does a thing like yon. But it'll be whisky, I'm thinking; for I heard

him at clishmaclavers with one of these randy, drucken old Eirishers."

My blood boiled. "She was _not_ drunk!" said I. "And she's--she's a

great friend of mine."

"Whisht! whisht, man! We'll be heard. I ask your pardon, I'm sure."

I made no reply. The Scotchman's tone was unpleasantly dry. Besides it

was very difficult to give vent to one's just indignation in whispers,

and I still felt giddy, though I was resting my back against some of the

lumber, rather comfortably.

"You'll no be Eirish, yourself?" the Scotchman asked in his own accent,

which was as strong in its way as Biddy's.

"I'm English," I said.

"Just so. And edyucated, I dare say?"

"I suppose so."

"Ye've not forgiven me that I wronged the old lady? Indeed, but I ask

your pardon, and hers no less. It's not for the best of us to sit in

judgment on the erring, as my mother has often said to me, unless it

comes in the plain path of duty. But maybe your own temper would be a

bit soored if your head was as light and your heart as sick as mine with

starvation and hope deferred--"

"Are you hungry?" I interrupted.

"I'll not be sorry when we get a meal."

"What have you had to-day?" I asked.

"I've been in the dock all day," he answered evasively, "but I'm no

great eater at the best of times, and I chewed two bits of orange-peel,

not to speak of a handful of corn where there was a big heap had been

spilt by some wasteful body or another, that had small thoughts of it's

coming to use. Now hoo in this world's a man to make honest profit on a

commodity he entrusts--"

"Sh! sh! You're raising your voice again," said I. "Where's your hand?

It's only a cake, but it'll be better than nothing." And I held out the

cake Biddy had made me put in my pocket.

"I'll no take it from ye. Keep it for your own needs; I'm harder than

yourself, it's likely," he said, pushing my hand aside, and added almost

peevishly, "but keep the smell of it from me."

"I can spare it perfectly," I whispered. "I've had plenty to eat quite

lately."

I shall never forget how he clutched it then. I could hear his teeth

clash with the eagerness of his eating. It almost frightened me in the

darkness.

"Eh! man, that was good!" he gasped. "Are ye sure indeed and in truth ye

could spare it all? I didn't think they made such bannocks out of

Scotland. But we've much to learn in all matters, doubtless. Thank ye a

thousand times."

"The old Irishwoman gave it me!" I said with some malice. "She made me

put it in my pocket, though she had given me a good meal before, for

which she would take nothing."

"It was leeberal of her," said Alister Auchterlay. "Verra leeberal; but

there are good Christians to be met with, amongst all sorts, there's not

a doot aboot it."

I should probably have pursued my defence of Biddy against this

grudging--not to say insulting--tribute to her charity, if I had not

begun to feel too tired to talk, and very much teased by the heaving of

the vessel.

"I wish the ship would be quiet till we start," I said. "We're not at

sea yet."

In reply to this Alister at some length, and with as much emphasis as

whispering permitted, explained to me that a ship could not, in the

nature of things, keep still, except in certain circumstances, such as

being in dry dock for repairs or lying at anchor in absolutely still

water.

"Good gracious!" I interrupted. "Of course I know all that. You don't

suppose I expect it not to move?"

"I understood ye to say that ye wushed it," he replied with dignity, if

not offence.

"I don't know what I wish!" I moaned.

My companion's reply to this was to feel about for me and then to begin

scrambling over me; then he said--"Move on, laddie, to your right, and

ye'll find space to lie on the flat of your back, close by the ship's

side. I'm feared you're barely fit for the job ye've undertaken, but

ye'll be easier if ye lie down, and get some sleep."

I moved as he told me, and the relief of lying flat was great--so great

that I began to pull myself together again, and made ready in my mind to

thank my unseen companion for the generosity with which he had

evidently given me the place he had picked for himself. But whilst I was

thinking about it I fell fast asleep.

When I woke, for the first minute I thought I was at home, and I could

not conceive what Martha could be doing, that there should be, as far as

one could hear, chimney-sweeping, cinder-riddling, furniture-moving,

clock-winding, and Spring-cleaning, of the most awful nature, all going

on at once, and in a storm of yelling and scolding, which was no part of

our domestic ways. But in another minute I knew where I was, and by the

light coming through a little round porthole above me, I could see my

companion.

He was still sleeping, so that I could satisfy my keen curiosity without

rudeness. He had indeed given up the only bit of space to me, and was

himself doubled up among lumber in a fashion that must have been very

trying to the length of his limbs. For he was taller than I, though not,

I thought, much older; two years or so, perhaps. The cut of his clothes

(not their raggedness, though they were ragged as well as patched)

confirmed me in my conviction that he was "not exactly a gentleman"; but

I felt a little puzzled about him, for, broad as his accent was, he was

even less exactly of the Tim Binder and Bob Furniss class.

He was not good-looking, and yet I hardly know any word that would so

fittingly describe his face in the repose of sleep, and with that bit of

light concentrated upon it, as the word "noble." It was drawn and

pinched with pain and the endurance of pain, and I never saw anything so

thin, except his hands, which lay close to his sides--both clenched. But

I do think he would have been handsome if his face had not been almost

aggressively intelligent when awake, and if his eyebrows and eyelashes

had had any colour. His hair was fair but not bright, and it was

straight without being smooth, and tossed into locks that had no grace

or curl. And why he made me think of a Bible picture--Jacob lying at the

foot of the ladder to heaven, or something of that sort--I could not

tell, and did not puzzle myself to wonder, for the ship was moving, and

there was a great deal to be seen out of the window, tiny as it was.

It looked on to the dock, where men were running about in the old

bewildering fashion. To-day it was not so bewildering to me, because I

could see that the men were working with some purpose that affected our

vessel, though the directions in which they ran, dragging ropes as thick

as my leg, to the grinding of equally monstrous chains, were as

mysterious as the figures of some dance one does not know. As to the

noises they made, men and boys anywhere are given to help on their work

with sounds of some sort, but I could not have believed in anything

approaching to these, out of a lunatic asylum, unless I had heard them.

I could hear quite well, I could hear what was said, and a great deal of

it, I am sorry to say, would have been better unsaid. But the orders

which rang out interested me, for I tried to fit them on to what

followed, though without much result. At last the dock seemed to be

moving away from me--I saw men, but not the same men--and every man's

eye was fixed on us. Then the thick brown rope just below my window

quivered like a bow-string, and tightened (all the water starting from

it in a sparkling shower) till it looked as firm as a bar of iron, and I

held on tight, for we were swinging round. Suddenly the voice of command

sang out--(I fancied with a touch of triumph in the tone)--"Let go the

warp!" The thick rope sprang into the air, and wriggled like a long

snake, and it was all I could do to help joining in the shouts that rang

from the deck above and from the dock below. Then the very heart of the

ship began to beat with a new sound, and the Scotch lad leaped like a

deerhound to the window, and put his arm round my shoulder, and

whispered, "That's the screw, man! _we're off_!"

We and the World: A Book for Boys. Part II · 第 3 / 18 章