Dick Cheveley Part 18

It must come, I knew, from the partly open hatchway, or from a fracture in the hatch itself. This I afterwards found to have been the case, the fracture being covered up with a tarpaulin, which had at that instant been removed. Again I endeavoured to shout out, but my voice was not under the control of my will. No sounds issued from my mouth. I stretched out my hands in an imploring att.i.tude, fancying that I should be seen. I attempted to make my way directly under the opening, but ere I could reach it I sank down utterly exhausted.

I had never before been so completely prostrated. I didn't lose my senses, but all physical power had deserted me. I could scarcely move my hands or feet; still I thought that the hatch must be again opened before long, and that I could not fail to be discovered. I earnestly prayed that help might be sent me. How it was to come I could not tell.

Notwithstanding what was before me, I still desired to be set free.

Although I was not sleeping, strange fancies filled my brain. I saw people flit about in the darkness, suddenly coming into the light, and then disappearing. Some were people I knew, and others were strangers.

Aunt Deb and Mr b.u.t.terfield came by, tripping it lightly, holding each other's hands, he in a bob wig with a sword by his side, she in high-heeled red shoes and a cap decked with flowers and ribbons. She smiled and ogled, as if about to dance a minuet. I almost laughed as I saw them, they appeared so vivid and real. Then Captain Longfleet came upon the scene as I fancied him, dressed in a c.o.c.ked-hat and feathers, a long sword buckled to his side, high boots, a red coat, and a waistcoat braided with gold.

I fancy that I must have seen some picture of the sort of a pirate captain to cause him thus to be presented to my imagination. He walked about flouris.h.i.+ng his sword till he met Aunt Deb, to whom, instead of cutting her head off, as I thought he was about to do, he made a profound bow, and then vanished. Many other figures quite as bizarre and unnatural appeared before me. I mention these trivial circ.u.mstances to show the state of my mind. I had been so long by myself that I must be pardoned if I appear egotistical. Again all was quiet. I lay for some time, if not unconscious, with very little power of thought. I was afraid that another night would come on, and that I should have to endure my sufferings for some hours longer, if death did not put an end to them. I could still hear the tread of the men's feet, and even the voices of the officers, shouting their orders. How I wished that I could shout also, for then I knew I should be heard. I tried once more to move, and managed to drag myself on till I got directly under the hatchway. Although I could not shout, to my surprise I heard myself groaning.

There being light sufficient to enable me to observe objects, my eye fell upon a loose piece of wood. I grasped it with all my remaining strength, and began beating away on the top of a cask, which proved to be empty from the sound which emanated from it. I beat on and on, but no notice appeared to be taken of the noise I was making. I was too ill and weak to reason on the subject, but I remembered hearing a loud voice shouting out some orders. Presently there came a tramp of feet overhead, backwards and forwards and from side to side they seemed to run. The crew were evidently engaged in shortening or making sail, which it was I was unable to tell. I had sense enough remaining to know that whilst this was going forward on deck it was not likely that notice would be taken of my feeble knocking, for feeble it was, though it sounded loud to me.

Presently I felt a greater movement than I had experienced for some time, and the s.h.i.+p heeled over on one side. My fear was that the cases on which I lay might be again s.h.i.+fted, and that I might be thrown down to some lower depth of the hold, with bales and casks above me. Of course I am describing what I fancied might happen, not what was likely to occur. I now guessed that a number of the crew must have gone aloft to shorten sail, and that even if they had heard the noise they would not have had time to ascertain what had caused it. I now more than ever feared that, before I could be liberated, I should become utterly exhausted, and should fall into a swoon from which I might never recover.

I was too weak to pray, or any longer exert myself. Still my senses did not altogether desert me. I lay on my back, looking up towards the hatchway. The s.h.i.+p heeled over more and more. To me, who had been accustomed to live so long down near the keel, it appeared at a frightful angle, and I though, she would go over altogether. Again I heard voices shouting out orders, and the crew, I supposed, went aloft to take in more sail. I was afraid that another storm was coming on.

Fearful would be the consequences to me if such should be the case.

Presently I heard something dragged over the hatchway. The ray of light which had hitherto tended to keep up my waning spirits was obscured.

A tarpaulin had been placed over the hatchway. Perhaps the crew were about to batten down the hatches. In vain I tried, while this was going forward, to strike the cask. I had not sufficient strength to do it. A fearful faintness was coming over me. Perhaps the movement of the s.h.i.+p contributed to this. I think I must have fainted, for I cannot recollect what happened. I had no strength to hold on or to grasp the stick, and might have been thrown helplessly about like a shuttlec.o.c.k till life was extinct.

I fancy that some time must have pa.s.sed. When I recovered my senses, my first impulse was to feel for the stick. It was close to me. I had power to grasp it. The top of the chest on which I lay was perfectly level, but I expected to find it heeling over as before. Instead of that, no movement took place. The s.h.i.+p was apparently gliding forward on an even keel. The storm had ceased, or probably the s.h.i.+p had only been struck by a sudden squall, which had pa.s.sed over.

My first impulse was again to try and strike the cask and to shout out, but I could only utter a few low groans. I managed, however, to give some blows on the cask, which resounded through the hold. The noise was loud enough, I fancy, to be heard on deck, or indeed in every part of the s.h.i.+p. I beat on and on. Presently the tarpaulin was drawn off, and I heard some feet moving directly above me. A voice said distinctly, "Below! What's that?"

Almost immediately the hatch was removed, and as I looked up a flood of light burst down upon me. For some seconds I could see nothing.

Gradually I made out a number of human faces peering down through the hatchway.

"Why, what can that be?" exclaimed one of the men.

"Ghost of a ghost," cried another.

"It can't be a live thing," said a third.

"Why, Jack, I do believe it's a boy," exclaimed a fourth; "we must get him up whatever he is, but how could he have come there?"

Presently a ladder was let down. None of the men seemed inclined to descend, evidently having some doubts as to my character, till the last speaker, calling the others cowards, came down. Instead of at first reviving me, the effect of the fresh air was to make me faint away.

When I recovered I found myself lying on the deck, surrounded by a number of strange faces. A seaman--the one who, I suppose, had brought me up--was supporting me and applying a wet cloth to my head and shoulders, while another, kneeling down, was examining my countenance.

"Why, youngster, how did you come aboard here? Where have you been ever since we sailed from the Mersey?" he asked.

Too weak to answer, I could only stretch out my hand and then point to my lips, to show that I wanted food and water.

"If you've been down in the hold all these weeks, no wonder that you want something to eat," he remarked.

Still he didn't move, or propose to obtain any refreshment for me. As my lack-l.u.s.tre eyes looked up at him, I recognised Gregory Growles, the old seaman to whom I had at first spoken with my cutter under my arm.

No wonder that he didn't recollect me in my present forlorn and dirt-begrimed condition. At last the seaman against whom I leant told one of his messmates to get me some water. With indifference, if not unwillingness, the man did as requested, and going to the water-b.u.t.t on deck brought me a mugful, which I greedily drank.

"By the feel of his ribs he wants something more substantial than water," observed my friend. "We must get the poor young chap into a berth, and feed him up, or he'll be slipping his cable. There doesn't seem to be much life in him now."

"That will be seen."

"What business had he to stow himself away, and make us all fancy that a ghost was haunting the s.h.i.+p?" cried Growles, in a surly way. "We shall hear what the captain has to say to him. To my notion, as he's made his bed, so he'll have to lie on it."

"Come, come, mate, it would be hard lines for the poor young chap if he were left to die, without any of us trying to bring him through. I, for one, can't stand by doing nothing, so just one of you lend a hand here, and we'll put him into my berth, and get the cook to make some broth for him," said the kind-hearted seaman.

While he was speaking, a person, who was evidently one of the officers, came forward and expressed his surprise at seeing me, and inquired why he hadn't been informed of my having been discovered?

The men replied, that I had only just been found and brought on deck, and that they thought I was dying.

"It would have saved trouble to have hove him overboard before he came to himself," said the mate, with a careless laugh. "The captain doesn't allow of stowaways, and we don't want any aboard here."

He said this, I suppose, to frighten me, indifferent to the consequences.

"He's very bad, sir," said my friend, touching his hat, "and, maybe, it won't much matter what is done with him; but if you'll give me leave, I'll take him below to my berth, after we've washed off the dirt that sticks to him. He wants food more than anything else to bring him round, and when he's himself we can make some use of him at all events.

We want a boy forward very badly, and he'll be worth his salt, I've a notion."

"You may do what you like with him, Tom Trivett," answered the officer, "only don't let us be bothered with him. We've trouble enough with young Riddle, the mutinous young rascal. He'll have to look out for himself, if he don't mind."

The officer was the third mate of the s.h.i.+p, who happened just then to have charge of the deck. He made further inquiries about how I had been found, and asked the men whether they had before known of my being on board?

Trivett replied that they were entirely ignorant as to how I had come into the s.h.i.+p, but that hearing peculiar noises, they lifted the hatch, and that he had gone down and discovered me.

"We shall hear by-and-by what he has to say for himself. In the meantime, Trivett, take care of him, and I'll let the captain know he's been found. He's the ghost you fellows have been frightened about,"

said the mate.

"We were no more frightened than he was," I heard some of the men utter, "but who could tell where all those strange noises we heard came from when any of us went down into the hold. He's precious ready to call us cowards, but he was more frightened than we were. Why, he would never go down unless he had a couple of hands with him." While this was going on, Tom Trivett continued swabbing my head and neck. When the mate walked aft he called to the cook to bring him a bucket of warm water from the caboose, as well as a lump of soap, a scrubbing-brush, and a piece of canvas.

The sun was s.h.i.+ning brightly, and the air was warm, so that I did not feel the exposure so much as it might have been felt. Tom forthwith set about to sc.r.a.pe me clean, taking his own pocket-comb to disentangle my matted hair after he had washed it. The operation, though somewhat hazardous, greatly refreshed me. Before it was concluded, Julius Caesar, the black cook, who had some tender spot in his heart, brought out a basin of soup, from which Trivett fed me as tenderly as a nurse would a young child. This still further revived me.

"You shall have some more, boy, when I have done a-cleaning you," said Tom.

The rest of the crew sat round making remarks, but not even offering to a.s.sist their s.h.i.+pmate, evidently perfectly indifferent as to what happened to me, though perhaps curious to see whether I should revive under the treatment to which I was being subjected. Judging by the colour of the water after I had been washed in it, I must have been as black as a coal. I rather think Julius Caesar must have fancied that I was one of his own race, and must have been greatly astonished at seeing a blackamoor washed white. When the operation was concluded, Growles again came and had a look at me.

"Why, I do believe it's none other than the young chap who came aboard us at Liverpool," he exclaimed. "I thought as when I saw him so often that he was up to something, but never fancied that he was going to stow himself away, or I should have been on the watch for him. Well, he'll have to pay pretty smartly for the trick he has played us."

My friend Tom took no notice of this and similar remarks made by others of the crew; but after having again fed me, he called to a stout-looking lad who was coming forward from the companion-hatchway to a.s.sist in carrying me to his berth under the topgallant forecastle. The lad, without hesitation, did as he was directed, and took up my legs, while Tom lifted me by the arms. As I was being carried along, my eyes turned towards the lad who was stepping backwards, when I at once recognised him as Mark Riddle, though he looked very different to the smart young chap he was when I last saw him, and he evidently did not know me.

"Can't you find a s.h.i.+rt and a pair of trousers for the poor fellow?"

cried Tom; "his own want was.h.i.+ng terribly."

Mark ran aft, and in a short time returned with the garments, in which Tom clothed me.

Notwithstanding the food which had been given me, I was still too weak to speak. He and Tom lifted me into an upper bunk on the starboard side. As he did so, I stretched out my hand and seized his, which I pressed between my bony fingers. I could just say, "Thank you, Mark."

He looked at me very hard, but still did not seem to have a suspicion who I was. This was not surprising, as he did not even know that I had gone to Liverpool. I was so altered, that even my mother would scarcely have recognised me. He, however, asked Tom Trivett who I was. Tom replied that I was a young stowaway, but that he knew no more about me than did the man in the moon.

"Go and fetch the remainder of the broth," I heard Tom say. "A little more will do him good, and then if he gets a sound sleep he'll come round, I have a notion."

"If he does, it will only be to lead a dog's life," murmured Mark, as he left to get the broth.

Tom stood by me arranging the blankets, and trying to make me comfortable till Mark returned with some soup, with some biscuits and rice floating in it. Though I could drink the liquid, it was with difficulty that I could masticate the latter, but I managed to get down a few pieces.