It was impossible to help thinking about the handsome old dining-room at
the Heronry as Sydney sat down to his first meal at the midshipman's
mess, and however willing he might have been to consider that polished
mahogany tables and plate were not necessaries, he could not help
comparing the food with that to which he had been accustomed.
As luck had it, he found himself seated next to Roylance, who laughed
good-humouredly, and said--
"Don't take any notice of the rough joking, youngster."
He was not above a year older than Sydney, but he had been two years at
sea, and seemed to look down from a height of experience at his
companion.
"I am not going to," said Sydney, looking up frankly to the other's
handsome face.
"That's right. Terry's cock of the walk here, and shows off a good
deal. We all give in to him, so be civil too, and it will save a row.
The luff doesn't like us to quarrel."
"He told me not to," said Syd.
"Then I wouldn't. If Terry gives you a punch on the head, take it, and
never mind."
Syd was silent.
"Got your chest, haven't you?"
"Yes."
"Everything's new, awkward, and fresh to you now, but you'll soon get
used to it. You'll put on your undress uniform to-morrow, of course.
I'll tell you anything you want to know. Nobody told me when I came on
board, and I had a hard time of it."
"Did the others tease you much?"
"They did and no mistake, and I got it worse because I kicked against
it; and the _more_ a fellow kicks, the more they worry you."
These few friendly advances from a messmate who seemed to be one of the
most likely-looking for a companion, sent a feeling of warmth through
the new-comer's breast, and in spite of the coarseness of the
provisions, which were eked out with odds and ends brought by the
middies from the shore, Sydney made a fairly satisfactory meal, the
better that Terry was on duty.
"But I've got to meet him some time," thought Sydney; and he wondered
how he would feel when he received that blow which was sure to come, and
stamp him as one of the subordinates of the lad whom his new friend had
dubbed the cock of the walk.
In spite of the novelty of everything about him, Syd had plenty of time
to feel low-spirited, and to envy the light-heartedness of his new
friend, who in the course of the evening seemed to feel that further
apology was due for their first encounter that day.
"I say, Belton," he said, "I am sorry I played you those tricks and
sided with Terry as I did. It was all meant for a game. We have such a
rough, uncomfortable life here that one gets into the habit of making
fun of everything and everybody, from the captain downwards."
"Don't say any more about it," replied Sydney, holding out his hand.
"I'm not such a milksop that I mind it."
"That's right," cried Roylance, grasping the extended hand. "You'll
soon be all right with us."
"Hi! look there," cried a squeaky-voiced little fellow at the end of the
table; "there's old Roy making friends with the new fellow. I say,
Belt, don't you believe him. He'll want to borrow money to-morrow."
_Bang_!
"No, you didn't," cried the little middy, who had ducked cleverly and
avoided half a loaf which Roylance threw at his head and struck the
bulkhead instead.
"You'll have to be stopped, Jenkins," said Roylance. "You've got off so
far because you are such a miserable little beggar."
"Don't you believe him, Belt," cried the little fellow, who had a
withered, old-mannish look, and an exceedingly small nose, like a peg in
the middle of his face. "Roy's afraid of me. Look at that."
He slipped off his coat, drew up his sleeve, and exhibited his muscle in
a pugnacious fashion, which brought forth a roar of laughter.
"Baby Jenks fights best with his tongue," said Roylance, coolly. "We
shall have to cut it before he grows civil."
The rattle of the chattering tongues went on till bedtime, and at last,
for the first time in his life, Sydney found himself lying in a hammock,
tired out but confused, and hardly able to realise that he was down
below in a close place, with his face not many inches from the ceiling
with its beams and rings. Talking was going on upon each side. The
place was very dark, and there was a dim-looking lantern swinging some
distance away in the middle of what seemed to be a luminous fog.
He lay there thinking that the hammock was not so very uncomfortable,
only he did not feel quite at home with his head and heels high, and as
every time he moved he felt as if he must fall, he at last lay very
still, thinking how strange it all was, and how he seemed to be
completely separated from his father, as much so as if they were in
different ships.
Then after coming to the conclusion that he rather liked Roylance, but
that he should never care for life aboard ship, the light from the
lanthorn swung to and fro a little, and then all was perfectly black
where it had hung the minute before.
This did not trouble Syd, for it seemed quite a matter of course that
the light should be put out, and so he lay thinking over all that had
passed that day--that he was glad Barney Strake and Pan were on board;
that Roy lance seemed to be so friendly; then that he should have to
stand up and meet Terry before very long and allow himself to be
thrashed. Then he thought about nothing at all, for that pleasant,
restful sensation that precedes sleep came over him, and all was blank
till he felt a curious shock and was wide-awake.
"Here, hi! What's the matter?" shouted a squeaky voice.
"I--I don't know," said Sydney, feeling about him and gradually
realising that he was on the floor among his blankets. "I think the
rope of my hammock has broken."
There was an outburst of tittering at this, and now it began to dawn
upon him that he was the victim of some trick.
"Look here, you fellows," said a voice which Sydney recognised; "the
first luff said there was to be no more of these games. Who did it?"
"Baby Jenks," said a voice, and there was a laugh.
"I didn't," squeaked the little middy; "it was one of Roy's games."
"Say it was me again, and I'll come and half smother you."
"Well, they said it was me," protested Jenkins. "I was asleep."
"Who was it?" cried Roylance again.
"Captain Belton, to make his boy sharp," said a voice out of the
darkness--a voice evidently disguised by being uttered through a pair of
half-closed hands.
There was a hearty laugh here, during which, feeling very miserable and
dejected, Syd was groping about, trying to find out how the hammock was
fastened, and in the darkness growing only more confused.
"Where are you?" said Roylance.
"Here. It's come untied, I think."
"Untied! You've been cut down."
"Cut?" said Sydney, wonderingly.
"Down. Never mind. It was only at your feet. I'll soon put you right
again."
Syd stood there listening to his companions' hard breathing and the
whispering and tittering going on in the other hammocks for a few
minutes, during which a noise went on like as if a box was being corded.
At last this ceased.
"There you are! Where are your blankets?"
"Here; but they're all in a dreadful muddle."
There was a shout of laughter at this, and directly after Sydney heard a
gruff voice say--
"Steady there, young gen'lemen. Anything the matter?"
"No; it's all right. Only some one tumbled out of bed."