Mother Carey's Chicken Part 15

"You hear what he says," whispered Mark. "Come on up here. I'll go first and show you the way."

Truth to tell Mark did not want to go any higher, but under the circ.u.mstances he felt bound, terrible as it looked, and the remainder of the climb over the man's head was not made any the pleasanter by the poor wretch moaning out--

"Oh, don't! oh, don't! You'll push me off! You'll fall! I know you'll fall."

But Mark did not fall, and though he chose the easier way up he did display some courage, and lay flat down to extend a hand to his miserable companion.

"There, take hold of my hand. I'll help you," he said.

The man shook his head--wisely, perhaps, for Mark's help would not have been great as far as sustaining him went.

"I can't--I daren't move," he said. "It's as bad as being shut up in the hold. Please call for help."

"Ahoy, there!" shouted a familiar voice. "What are you doing, Mark?"

"Trying to help this man, father."

"Here, Jimpny," shouted the captain, "get up, sir. Don't hang in the rigging there like that."

The man moaned, and only clung the closer.

"Do you hear, sir?" cried the captain; but the man was livid, and as he gazed wildly up at Mark, the lad lowered himself down, thrust an arm round one of the ropes, and took a firm grasp of his collar.

"What's the matter, Mark?" cried the captain.

"He's going to faint, I think."

"Here, Small, up aloft with a rope there," cried the captain, "and make it fast round him."

The boatswain seized a coil of line and trotted to the other side of the deck. Mark saw him cross, but was astonished to see how soon he appeared at the mast-head.

"Hold tight, youngster," he said, "I'll soon give him his physic."

"What are you going to do?" cried Mark.

"Hang him. You'll see," said the boatswain with a chuckle.

Jimpny groaned and seemed to cling spasmodically to the shrouds as the great seaman slipped the end of the rope round him and made it fast.

After which he pa.s.sed the other end of the rope over a stay and lowered it down to the deck.

"Ready below?" he shouted.

"All right!" came up.

"You get a bit higher, youngster. That's your sort. Now, my London prime, let go with them hands."

"No, no," groaned the unfortunate man. "I dare not."

"Then I shall have to make you," roared the boatswain. "Heave ahead there!"

The rope tightened and there was a tremendous strain upon the man's chest, while, by a dexterous s.n.a.t.c.h, Small jerked one of the clinging hands free and thrust Jimpny off the shroud, making him swing round in the air, and this helped to jerk the other hand from its grip.

"Now you have him. Down he goes."

It was all so rapidly done that it took Mark's breath away. One minute the miserable man was clinging there half fainting, the next he was swinging in the air and being slowly lowered down to the deck.

"You don't want sarving that way, my lad," said the boatswain laughing.

"Catch hold o' that rope and slide down. I'll go this way."

Mark shrank for a moment but seized the rope the next, and slid down so quickly that his hands felt uncomfortably warm, and he reached the deck as Billy Widgeon was unfastening the rope from round Jimpny's chest.

"Nice sorter sailor that, Captain Strong," said Mr Gregory sourly.

"Yes," said the captain quietly. "Don't send him aloft again. Let him help the cook."

"Help the cook! Do you want to poison us, sir?"

"No. The man has no nerve, but he may prove himself useful some other way."

"You are a brave boy," said a pleasant silvery voice behind Mark, and turning sharply round, it was to see the major's little daughter hurrying toward the cabin, in which she disappeared.

"There, go below," said the mate angrily, "and don't show yourself to me again for a week."

The stowaway rose and crept away, looking sideways at the sea, and somehow Mark could not help feeling sorry for his pitiful case.

Mark did not feel as if he had been brave, and as they sat at tea that evening and he looked across at where Mary O'Halloran was seated with her mother, he said to himself that if she knew all he had thought up aloft and what his sensations were she would have looked upon him as an impostor.

He felt so uncomfortable all that evening, and worried, that he longed to get away by himself, for the conversation seemed to be all about him.

"I should make a soldier of him," said the major to Captain Strong.

"The only career for a brave boy, sir, in spite of the disgraceful management at the War Office."

Mark winced, and glanced towards those peaceful young gentlemen, the German agricultural students; but they were all three beaming upon him with their spectacles, looking about as round in the face and as inexpressive as so many enlarged buns.

He glanced at the little Scottish merchant, but he took snuff and nodded at him.

The stout doctor was looking at him and making notes in a memorandum book, as if he were writing down an account of the affair.

Mr Morgan was on deck; but Mr Gregory, as soon as their eyes met, deliberately winked at him.

He turned his gaze upon his father, to find that he was thoughtfully watching him; while, after receiving a friendly shake of the head from Mrs Major and a merry look from Mary, who seemed to be enjoying his confusion, as a last resource the lad looked at his mother, to find she had ready for him a tender smile.

"And she put three extra lumps of sugar in my tea," said Mark to himself. "I never felt so ashamed of anything in my life."

To make matters worse, the major began in a loud voice to talk about the heroic deeds of boys as found in history, and though the saloon cabin was hot enough before, it seemed now to Mark that it was tropical, and he was only too glad to go out on deck and wipe his streaming face in the company of Bruff and Jack the monkey, who, from becoming the companion of the dog, was willing enough to transfer some of his friendliness to the dog's master.

But even here he was not left in peace, for Billy Widgeon came up to compliment him on his climbing.