The Pirate Island Part 2

"Now then, you idle huzzies, what d'ye mean by blocking up the pa.s.sage so that a body can get neither in nor out? D'ye want these poor souls to be _quite_ froze to death before you lets 'em in? You, Em'ly, be off to Number 4 and run the warmin' pan through the bed, and give the fire a good stir. Emma, do wake up, child, and take a couple of buckets of hot water up to Number 4, and put 'em in the bath. Run, Mary Jane, for your life, and see if the fire in Number 7 is burning properly; and you, Susan, be off and turn down all the beds."

The maids rushed off to their several duties like startled deer, while the mistress turned to Sam and directed him to convey his burden to Number 4, herself leading the way.

A number of women, the mothers and wives of the fishermen, had gathered at the "Anchor" as soon as it was known that the smack had gone out to a wreck, in order that they might be at hand to render any a.s.sistance which might be required. They were all collected in the bar-parlour; and two of them now rose, in obedience to "mother" Salmon's summons, and following her upstairs, took over from Sam their patient; and, shutting the door, lost not a moment in applying such restoratives and adopting such measures as their experience taught them would be most likely to prove beneficial.

The rest of the survivors speedily followed; the women and children being promptly conveyed to the rooms already prepared for them; but the men, for the most part, proved to be very little the worse for their exposure, seeming to need for their restoration a good hot supper more than anything else; and this contingency also having by "mother"

Salmon's experience and foresight been provided for, the rescued and their rescuers were soon seated together at the same table busily engaged in the endeavour to restore their exhausted energies.

One man only of the entire party seemed unable to do justice to the meal spread before him, and this was the master of the wrecked s.h.i.+p. He seated himself indeed at the table, and made an effort to eat and drink, but his thoughts were evidently elsewhere. He could not settle comfortably down to his meal, but kept gliding softly out of the room, to glide as softly back again after an absence of a few minutes, when he would abstractedly swallow a mouthful or two, and then glide out once more. At length, after a somewhat longer absence than before, he returned to the room in which the meal was being discussed, the look of care and anxiety on his face replaced by an expression of almost overwhelming joy, and, walking up to Bob, somewhat astonished that individual by exclaiming--

"Young man, let me without further delay tender you and your brave comrades my most hearty thanks for the rescue of my pa.s.sengers, my crew, and myself from a situation of deadly peril, a rescue which was only effected at very great hazard to yourselves, and which was successfully accomplished mainly--I am sure your comrades will join me in saying-- through _your_ indomitable courage and perseverance. The debt which I owe you is one that it will be quite impossible for me ever to repay; I can merely acknowledge it and testify to the overwhelming nature of my obligation, for to your gallant behaviour, under G.o.d, I owe not only the deliverance of twenty-five human lives from a watery grave, but also the safety of my wife and only child--all, in fact, that I have left to me to make life worth living. As I have said, it will be quite impossible for me ever to cancel so heavy a debt; but what I _can_ do I _will_.

Your conduct shall be so represented in the proper quarter as to secure for you all the honour which such n.o.ble service demands; and, for the rest, I hope you will always remember that Captain Staunton--that is my name--will deem no service that you may require of him too great to be promptly rendered. And what I say to you especially, I say also to all your gallant comrades, who will, I hope, accept the grateful thanks which I now tender to them."

Poor Bob blushed like a girl at these warm outspoken praises, and stammered some deprecatory remarks, which, however, were drowned by the more vigorous disclaimers of the rest of the fishermen and their somewhat noisy applause of the s.h.i.+pwrecked captain's manly speech; in the midst of which commotion "mother" Salmon entered to enjoin strict silence and to announce the gratifying intelligence that all the women and children were doing well, including the skipper's little daughter, the apparently lifeless body of whom Bob had recovered when first he boarded the wreck. A low murmur of satisfaction greeted this announcement, and then all hands fell to once more upon their supper, which was soon afterwards concluded, when old Bill and his mates, shaking hands heartily all round, retired to seek the rest which they had so well-earned, while the s.h.i.+pwrecked men were disposed of as well as circ.u.mstances would allow in the few remaining unappropriated bed- rooms of the hospitable "Anchor."

By noon next day the s.h.i.+pwrecked party had all so far recovered that they were able to set out on the journey to their several homes.

Captain Staunton sought out old Bill and arranged with him respecting the salvage of the wrecked s.h.i.+p's cargo, after which he handed the veteran fisherman, as remuneration for services already rendered, a draft upon the owners of the _Diadem_, which more than satisfied the smack's crew for all their perils and exertions of the previous night.

He then left for London to perform the unpleasant duty of reporting to his owners the loss of their s.h.i.+p, mentioning, before he left, the probability of his speedy return to personally superintend the salvage operations. In bidding adieu to Bob, who happened to be present while the final arrangements with old Bill were being made, Captain Staunton remarked to him--

"I have been thinking a great deal about you, my lad. You are a fine gallant young fellow, and it seems to me it would be a very great pity for you to waste your life in pursuit of the arduous and unprofitable occupation of fis.h.i.+ng. What say you? Would you like to take to the sea as a profession? If so, let me know. I owe you a very heavy debt, as I have already said, and nothing would afford me greater pleasure than to repay you, as far as possible, by personally undertaking your training, and afterwards using what little interest I possess to advance you in your career. Think the matter over, and consult with your father upon it"--he was not then aware of poor Bob's peculiar position--"and let me know your decision when I return. Now, once more, good-bye for the present."

The weather having moderated by the next day, the _Seamew's_ crew commenced salvage operations at the wreck, and for more than a week all hands were so busy, early and late, that Bob had literally no time to think about, much less to consult with old Bill respecting, Captain Staunton's proposal.

On the third day the chief mate of the _Diadem_ appeared at Brightlingsea, having been sent down by the owners to superintend the work at the wreck. He announced that he had been sent instead of Captain Staunton, in consequence of the appointment of the latter by his owners to the command of a fine new s.h.i.+p then loading in the London Docks for Australia. It appeared that Captain Staunton stood so high in the estimation of his employers, and possessed such a thoroughly- established reputation for skill and sobriety that, notwithstanding his recent misfortune, there had been no hesitation about employing him again. A few days later a letter came from the captain himself to Bob confirming this intelligence, and stating that he had then a vacancy for his young friend if he chose to fill it.

Bob, however, as has already been remarked, was at the time too busy to give the matter proper consideration, so he wrote back saying as much, and hinting that perhaps on the return of the s.h.i.+p to England he might be glad to have a repet.i.tion of the offer.

To this letter a reply soon came, announcing the immediate departure of the s.h.i.+p, and containing a specific offer to receive Bob on board in the capacity of apprentice on her next voyage.

The idea of taking to the sea as a profession was so thoroughly novel to Bob that he had at first some little difficulty in realising all that it meant. Hitherto he had had no other intention or ambition than to potter about in a fis.h.i.+ng smack with old Bill, living a hard life, earning a precarious subsistence, and possibly, if exceptionally fortunate, at some period in the far-distant future, attaining to the owners.h.i.+p of a smack himself. But a month or two later on, when all had been saved that it was possible to save from the wreck, and when nothing remained of the once fine s.h.i.+p but a few shattered timbers embedded in the sand, and showing at low water like the fragment of a skeleton of some leviathan; when Bob found time to fully discuss the matter with old Bill Maskell and his mates, these worthies painted the advantages of a regular seaman's life over those of the mere fisherman in such glowing colours, and dwelt so enthusiastically upon the prospects which would surely open out before our hero under the patronage of a man like Captain Staunton, that Bob soon made up his mind to accept the captain's offer and join him on his return to England.

Having once come to this decision the lad was all impatience for the time to arrive when he might embark upon his career. As it is with most lads, so it was with him, the prospect of a complete change in his mode of life was full of pleasurable excitement; and perhaps it was only natural that, now he had decided to forsake it, the monotonous humdrum fisher's life became almost unbearably irksome to him. Old Bill Maskell was not slow to observe this, and with the unselfishness which was so eminently characteristic of him, though he loved the lad as his own soul, he decided to shorten for him as far as possible the weary time of waiting, and send him away at once.

Accordingly, on the first opportunity that presented itself, he remarked to Bob--

"I say, boy, I've been turnin' matters over in my mind a bit, and it seems to me as a v'yage or two in a coaster 'd do you a power o' good afore you s.h.i.+ps aboard a 'South-Spainer.' You're as handy a lad as a man need wish to be s.h.i.+pmates with, aboard a fore-and-aft-rigged craft; but you ought to know some'at about square-rigged vessels too afore you sails foreign. Now, what d'ye say to a trip or two in a collier brig, just to larn the ropes like, eh?"

Note: "South-Spainer"--A term frequently employed by seamen to designate a foreign-going s.h.i.+p, especially one sailing to southern waters.--H.C.

Life on board a collier is not, as a rule, a condition of unalloyed felicity; but Bob was happily, or unhappily, ignorant of this; the suggestion conveyed to his mind only the idea of _change_, and his face lighted joyfully up at his benefactor's proposition, to which he at once eagerly a.s.sented.

Bob's slender wardrobe was accordingly at once overhauled and put into a condition of thorough repair; Bill, meantime, employing himself laboriously in an effort to ascertain, through the medium of a voluminous correspondence, the whereabouts of an old friend of his--last heard of by the said Bill as in command of a collier brig--with a view to the securing for Bob a berth as "ordinary seaman" under a "skipper"

of whom Bill knew something, and who could be trusted to treat the lad well.

Old Bill's labours were at length rewarded with success, "Captain"--as he loved to be styled--Turnbull's address in London being definitely ascertained, together with the gratifying intelligence that he still retained the command of the _Betsy Jane_.

Matters having progressed thus far satisfactorily, old Bill's next business was to write to "Captain" Turnbull, asking him if he could receive Bob on board; and in about a month's time a favourable answer was received, naming a day upon which Bob was to run up to London and sign articles.

Bob's departure from Brightlingsea was regarded by his numerous friends in the village quite in the light of an event; and when the morning came, and with it the market-cart which was to convey him and his belongings, together with old Bill, to Colchester, where they were to take train to London, nearly all the fishermen in the place, to say nothing of their wives and little ones, turned out to say farewell.

The journey was accomplished in safety and without adventure; and shortly after noon Bill and Bob found themselves threading their way through the narrow crowded streets to the "captain's" address, somewhere in the neighbourhood of Wapping.

On reaching the house the gallant skipper was found to be at home, in the act of partaking, together with his wife and family, of the mid-day meal, which on that occasion happened to be composed of "pickled pork and taturs." Old Bill and Bob were gruffly but cordially invited to join the family circle, which they did; Bob making a thoroughly hearty meal, quite unmoved by the coquettish endeavours of Miss Turnbull, a stout, good-tempered, but not particularly beautiful damsel of some seventeen summers, to attract the attention and excite the admiration of "pa's handsome new sailor."

"Captain" Turnbull proved to be a very stout but not very tall man, with a somewhat vacant expression of feature, and a singular habit of looking fixedly and in apparent amazement for a full minute at anyone who happened to address him. These, with a slow ponderous movement of body, a fixed belief in his own infallibility, and an equally firm belief in the unsurpa.s.sed perfections of the _Betsy Jane_, were his chief characteristics; and as he is destined to figure for a very brief period only in the pages of the present history, we need not a.n.a.lyse him any further.

After dinner had been duly discussed, together with a gla.s.s of grog--so far at least as the "captain," his wife, and old Bill were concerned-- our two friends were invited by the proud commander to pay a visit of inspection to the _Betsy Jane_. That venerable craft proved to be lying in the stream, the outside vessel of a number of similar craft moored in a tier, head and stern, to great slimy buoys, laid down as permanent moorings in the river. A wherry was engaged by the skipper, for which old Bill paid when the time of settlement arrived, the "captain" being apparently unconscious of the fact that payment was necessary, and the three proceeded on board. The brig turned out to be about as bad a specimen of her cla.s.s as could well be met with--old, rotten, leaky, and dirty beyond all power of description. Nevertheless her skipper waxed so astonis.h.i.+ngly eloquent when he began to speak her praises, that the idea never seemed to occur to either Bill or Bob that to venture to sea in her would be simply tempting Providence, and it was consequently soon arranged that our hero was to sign articles, nominally as an ordinary seaman, but, in consideration of his ignorance of square-rigged craft, to receive only the pay of a boy.

This point being settled the party returned to the sh.o.r.e, old Bill and Bob going for a saunter through some of the princ.i.p.al streets, to enjoy the cheap but rare luxury, to simple country people like themselves, of a look into the shop windows, with the understanding that they were to accept the hospitality of the Turnbull mansion until the time for sailing should arrive on the morrow.

Bob wished very much to visit one of the theatres that evening--a theatre being a place of entertainment which up to that time he had never had an opportunity of entering; but old Bill, anxious to cultivate, on Bob's behalf, the goodwill of the _Betsy Jane's_ commander, thought it would be wiser to spend the evening with that worthy. This arrangement was accordingly carried out, the "best parlour" being thrown open by Mrs Turnbull for the occasion. Miss Turnbull and Miss Jemima Turnbull contributed in turn their share toward the evening's entertainment by singing "Hearts of Oak," "The Bay of Biscay," "Then farewell my trim-built wherry," and other songs of a similar character, to a somewhat uncertain accompaniment upon a discordant jangling old piano--the chief merit of which was that a large proportion of its notes were dumb. Their gallant father meanwhile sipped his grog and puffed away at his "church-warden" in a high-backed uncomfortable-looking chair in a corner near the fire, utterly sunk, apparently, in a fit of the most profound abstraction, from which he would occasionally start without the slightest warning, and in a most alarming manner, to bellow out--generally at the wrong time and to the wrong tune--something which his guests were expected to regard as a chorus. The chorus ended he would again sink, like a stone, as abruptly back into his inner consciousness as he had emerged from it. So pa.s.sed the evening, without the slightest pretence at conversation, though both Bill and Bob made several determined efforts to start a topic; and so, as music, even of the kind performed by the Misses Turnbull, palls after a time, about eleven p.m. old Bill hinted at fatigue from the unusual exertions of the day, proposed retirement, and, with Bob, was shown to the room wherein was located the "shakedown" offered them by the hospitable skipper. The "shakedown" proved to be in reality two fair- sized beds, which would have been very comfortable had they been much cleaner than they were, and our two friends enjoyed a very fair night's rest.

Bob duly signed articles on the following morning, and then, in company with his s.h.i.+pmates, proceeded on board the _Betsy Jane_. Captain Turnbull put in an appearance about an hour afterwards, when the order was given to unmoor s.h.i.+p, and the brig began to drop down the river with the tide. Toward evening a fine fair wind sprang up, and the _Betsy Jane_, being only in ballast, then began to travel at a rate which threw her commander into an indescribable state of ecstasy. The voyage was accomplished without the occurrence of any incident worth recording, and in something like a week from the date of sailing from London, Bob found himself at s.h.i.+elds, with the brig under a coal-drop loading again for the Thames.

Some half a dozen similarly uneventful voyages to the Tyne and back to London were made by Bob in the _Betsy Jane_. The life of a seaman on board a collier is usually of a very monotonous character, without a single attractive feature in it--unless, maybe, that it admits of frequent short sojourns at home--and Bob's period of service under Captain Turnbull might have been dismissed with the mere mention of the circ.u.mstance, but for the incident which terminated that service.

It occurred on the sixth voyage which Bob had made in the _Betsy Jane_.

The brig had sailed from the Tyne, loaded with coals for London as usual, with a westerly wind, which, however, shortly afterwards backed to S.S.W., with a rapidly falling barometer. The appearance of the weather grew very threatening, which, coupled with the facts that the craft was old, weak, and a notoriously poor sailer with the wind anywhere but on her quarter, seemed to suggest, as the most prudent course under the circ.u.mstances, a return to the port they had just left.

The mate, after many uneasy glances to windward, turned to his superior officer, who was sitting by the companion placidly smoking, and proposed this.

The skipper slowly withdrew his pipe from his mouth, and, after regarding his mate for some moments, as though that individual were a perfect stranger who had suddenly and unaccountably made his appearance on board, e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed--

"Why?"

"Well, I'm afeard we're goin' to have a very dirty night on it," was the reply.

"Umph!" was the captain's only commentary, after which he resumed his pipe, and seemed inclined to doze.

Meanwhile the wind, which had hitherto been of the strength of a fair working breeze, rapidly increased in force, with occasional sharp squalls preceded by heavy showers of rain, while the threatening aspect of the weather grew _every_ moment more unmistakable. The brig was under topgallant-sails, tearing and thras.h.i.+ng through the short choppy sea in a way which sent the spray flying continuously in dense clouds in over her bluff bows, until her decks were mid-leg deep in water, and her stumpy topgallant-masts where whipping about aloft to such an extent that they threatened momentarily to snap off short at the caps. It was not considered etiquette on board the _Betsy Jane_ for the mate to issue an order while the captain had the watch, as was the case on the present occasion; but seeing a heavy squall approaching he now waived etiquette for the nonce and shouted--

"Stand by your to'gallan' halliards! Let go and clew up! Haul down the jib."

"Eh!" said the skipper, deliberately removing his pipe from his mouth, and looking around him in the greatest apparent astonishment.

Down rushed the squall, howling and whistling through the rigging, careening the brig until the water spouted up through her scuppers, and causing the gear aloft to crack and surge ominously.

"Let fly the tops'l halliards, fore and main!" yelled the mate.

The men leapt to their posts, the ropes rattled through the blocks, the yards slid down the top-masts until they rested on the caps, and with a terrific thras.h.i.+ng and fluttering of canvas the brig rose to a more upright position, saving her spars by a mere hair's-breadth.

Captain Turnbull rose slowly to his feet, and, advancing to where the mate stood near the main-rigging, tapped that individual softly on the shoulder with his pipe-stem.

The mate turned round.

Captain Turnbull looked fixedly at him for some moments as though he thought he recognised him, but was not quite sure, and then observed--

"I say, are you the cap'n of this s.h.i.+p?"