Jack Harkaway and His Son's Escape from the Brigands of Greece Part 115

The boat's crew generally laughed at this.

But Mr. Mole was not at all abashed.

"Really, Mr. Mole," said Jefferson, "you flatter."

"Not I," protested Mr. Mole; "I rarely remember doing a neater thing myself."

"Indeed!"

"Truly."

"Is it possible?"

"What magnanimity!"

"Humility itself," e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed another.

The exaggeration of their expressions of wonderment as well as admiration did not at all upset Mr. Mole's moral equilibrium.

He had a very large swallow for admiration, and he pleased to take it all as his legitimate due.

"The only thing which can at all compare to Mr. Jefferson's gallant deed was an adventure that I will tell you of," said he, modestly. "I was on a whaling expedition up north---"

"Whaling?"

"You!"

"Yes, yes, I, Jack. What is there surprising in that?"

"Nothing, sir," responded young Jack; "only I was not aware you had ever done any thing in that line."

"Now, how can you expect to know all my past career, my dear boy?"

"Of course, sir."

"Whaling, I repeat. We were chasing an enormous spermaceti whale. I was carrying the harpoon and tackle, and as we got within range I let fly at him with all my force. Now, perhaps I ought not to say it, but there were not many men who could approach me in handling the harpoon. I spitted the animal clean through the middle,"

"Dear me!"

"No sooner did he feel himself struck than he sounded. Out went the line, but hang me if I could pay out fast enough, for he jerked me clean off my perch into the water."

"Dreadful!"

"Shocking!"

Mr. Mole smiled grimly.

"Not so bad as it sounds, after all," he said. "It startled me a bit, as you may suppose."

"It would, of course," said d.i.c.k, tipping the wink to Jefferson.

"But I had got back my presence of mind in half a crack, so I hauled in my line until I found myself on the whale's back. There I stuck on like grim death, jobbing and stabbing away with one hand, while I held on to the hilt of the harpoon with the other. I had only a dirk or short sword with me, but it was quite long enough for the whale."

"No doubt, no doubt," exclaimed d.i.c.k.

"In a few minutes I had jobbed all the go out of him, and he floated on the top of the water dead as a bloater, with me on the top, rather blown with being so long under water, but with that excepted, not much the worse for it."

"Wonderful!"

"Marvellous!"

"A miracle!"

Such were the mildest tributes of admiration which Mr. Mole's fanciful reminiscence drew forth.

"You must have s.h.i.+pped a good lot of water, your honour," said Jack Tiller.

"That I did."

"More water than your honour has ever took since."

Mr. Mole half smelt a lurking sarcasm in this, but the honest tar's face showed no signs of slyness.

The only evidence of it being a dig at Mr. Mole's well-known weakness for strong waters was to be found in the merry twinkling of the listeners' eyes.

"I remember something that happened to Billy Longbow--" began Sam Mason.

"Avast, Sam!" interrupted Jack Tiller; "Billy Longbow ain't in it with Mr. Mole at a yarn."

CHAPTER XLIV.

HUNSTON'S TRIALS IN THE HOLD OF THE "WESTWARD HO!"--THE s.h.i.+NE WITH HIS PROTECTORS--A STRANGE REVELATION--TROUBLES.

Hunston was, meanwhile, getting into a very bad state of mind.

The mechanical arm was resuming its invidious advance--its mysterious yet none the less terrible attack.

"I feel that I am going off the hooks," he would mutter to himself, grimly, from time to time. "I shall put my old enemy Jack Harkaway to the trouble of burying me after all.

"Well, one good turn deserves another. I buried his brat, he shall bury me. Only he won't get as much for doing for me as I did for his son."

He little dreamt that both young Jack and Harry Girdwood were upon that s.h.i.+p.

He had seen young Jack once, and then his fears were so excited that they obtained a complete mastery over his cooler judgment.