Many Cargoes Part 49

"-- the manners!" said the mate, with tears in his eyes. "Where's that dog's manners? He's eaten all that steak."

Before the other could reply, the scuttle over the cabin was drawn, and the radiant face of Mrs. Bunker appeared at the opening.

"I can smell breakfast," she said archly.

"No wonder, with that dog so close," said Bill grimly. Mrs. Bunker looked at the captain for an explanation.

"He's ate it," said that gentleman briefly. "A pound and a 'arf o' the best rump steak in Wapping."

"Never mind," said Mrs. Bunker sweetly, "cook some more. I can wait."

"Cook some more," said the skipper to the mate, who still lingered.

"I'll cook some bloaters. That's all we've got now," replied the mate sulkily.

"It's a lovely morning," said Mrs. Bunker, as the mate retired, "the air is so fresh. I expect that's what has made Rover so hungry. He isn't a greedy dog. Not at all."

"Very likely," said Codd, as the dog rose, and, after sniffing the air, gently wagged his tail and trotted forward. "Where' she off to now?"

"He can smell the bloaters, I expect," said Mrs. Bunker, laughing. "It's wonderful what intelligence he's got. Come here, Rover!"

"Bill!" cried the skipper warningly, as the dog continued on his way.

"Look out! He's coming!"

"Call him off!" yelled the mate anxiously. "Call him off!"

Mrs. Bunker ran up, and, seizing her chaperon by the collar, hauled him away.

"It's the sea air," said she apologetically; "and he's been on short commons lately, because he's not been well. Keep still, Rover!"

"Keep still, Rover!" said the skipper, with an air of command.

Under this joint control the dog sat down, his tongue lolling out, and his eyes fixed on the fo'c'sle until the breakfast was spread. The appearance of the mate with a dish of steaming fish excited him again, and being chidden by his mistress, he sat down sulkily in the skipper's plate, until pushed off by its indignant owner.

"Soft roe, Bill?" inquired the skipper courteously, after he had served his pa.s.senger.

"That's not my plate," said the mate pointedly, as the skipper helped him.

"Oh! I wasn't noticing," said the other, reddening.

"I was, though," said the mate rudely. "I thought you'd do that. I was waiting for it. I'm not going to eat after animals, if you are."

The skipper coughed, and, after effecting the desired exchange, proceeded with his breakfast in sombre silence.

The barge was slipping at an easy pace through the water, the sun was bright, and the air cool, and everything pleasant and comfortable, until the chaperon, who had been repeatedly pushed away, broke through the charmed circle which surrounded the food and seized a fish. In the confusion which ensued he fell foul of the tea-kettle, and, dropping his prey, bit the skipper frantically, until driven off by his mistress.

"Naughty boy!" said she, giving him a few slight cuffs. "Has he hurt you? I must get a bandage for you."

"A little," said Codd, looking at his hand, which was bleeding profusely. "There's a little linen in the locker down below, if you wouldn't mind tearing it up for me."

Mrs. Bunker, giving the dog a final slap, went below, and the two men looked at each other and then at the dog, which was standing at the stern, barking insultingly at a pa.s.sing steamer.

"It's about time she came over," said the mate, throwing a glance at the sail, then at the skipper, then at the dog.

"So it is," said the skipper, through his set teeth.

As he spoke he pushed the long tiller hastily from port to starboard, and the dog finished his bark in the water; the huge sail reeled for a moment, then swung violently over to the other side, and the barge was on a fresh tack, with the dog twenty yards astern. He was wise in his generation, and after one look at the barge, made for the distant sh.o.r.e.

"Murderers!" screamed a voice; "murderers! you've killed my dog."

"It was an accident; I didn't see him," stammered the skipper.

"Don't tell me," stormed the lady; "I saw it all through the skylight."

"We had to s.h.i.+ft the helm to get out of the way of a schooner," said Codd.

"Where's the schooner?" demanded Mrs. Bunker; "where is it?"

The captain looked at the mate. "Where's the schooner?" said he.

"I b'leeve," said the mate, losing his head entirely at this question, "I b'leeve we must have run her down. I don't see her nowhere about."

Mrs. Bunker stamped her foot, and, with a terrible glance at the men, descended to the cabin. From this coign of vantage she obstinately refused to budge, and sat in angry seclusion until the vessel reached Ipswich late in the evening. Then she appeared on deck, dressed for walking, and, utterly ignoring the woebegone Codd, stepped ash.o.r.e, and, obtaining a cab for her boxes, drove silently away.

An hour afterwards the mate went to his home, leaving the captain sitting on the lonely deck striving to realise the bitter fact that, so far as the end he had in view was concerned, he had seen the last of Mrs. Bunker and the small but happy home in which he had hoped to install her.

A HARBOUR OF REFUGE

A waterman's boat was lying in the river just below Greenwich, the waterman resting on his oars, while his fare, a small, perturbed-looking man in seaman's attire, gazed expectantly up the river.

"There she is!" he cried suddenly, as a small schooner came into view from behind a big steamer. "Take me alongside."

"Nice little thing she is too," said the waterman, watching the other out of the corner of his eye as he bent to his oars. "Rides the water like a duck. Her cap'n knows a thing or two, I'll bet."

"He knows watermen's fares," replied the pa.s.senger coldly.

"Look out there!" cried a voice from the schooner, and the mate threw a line which the pa.s.senger skilfully caught.

The waterman ceased rowing, and, as his boat came alongside the schooner, held out his hand to his pa.s.senger, who had already commenced to scramble up the side, and demanded his fare. It was handed down to him.

"It's all right, then," said the fare, as he stood on the deck and closed his eyes to the painful language in which the waterman was addressing him. "n.o.body been inquiring for me?"

"Not a soul," said the mate. "What's all the row about?"