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Fitz the Filibuster, a novel by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 10. What Fitz Wanted |
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_ CHAPTER TEN. WHAT FITZ WANTED "What do you think of this for weather?" said Poole, one morning. "Isn't it worth sailing right away to get into such seas as this?" "Yes," said Fitz dreamily, as he lay on one side in his berth with his hand under his cheek, gazing through the cabin-window at the beautiful glancing water; "it is very lovely." "Doesn't it make you feel as if you were getting quite well?" "I think it would," said the boy, almost as if speaking to himself; "it would be all right enough if a fellow could feel happy." "Well," said Poole, "you ought to begin to now. Just see how you've altered. Father says you are to come up this afternoon as soon as the heat of the day has passed." "Come on deck?" cried Fitz, brightening. "Ah! That's less like being a prisoner." "A prisoner!" said Poole merrily. "Hark at him! Why, you are only a visitor, having a pleasant cruise. Father's coming directly," he added hastily, for he saw the look of depression coming back into the boy's face. "He says this is the last time he shall examine your head, and that you won't want doctoring any more. Come, isn't that good news enough for one morning?" Fitz made no reply, but lay with his face contracting, evidently thinking of something else. "As soon as he's gone," continued Poole, "I am going to bring the lines and some bait. Old Butters said you could have them as much as you liked. Don't turn gruff again this time and say you don't want to try." Fitz appeared to take no notice, and Poole went on-- "There are shoals of bonito about, and the Camel can dress them fine. You don't know how good they are, freshly caught and fried." Fitz made an impatient gesture. "How soon is your father coming below?" he said. "Oh, he may be down any moment. He and Mr Burgess are taking observations overhead and calculating our course." "Then he won't be very long," said Fitz. "Oh no. Want to speak to him?" "Yes, particularly." Poole gave the speaker a sharp look, which evidently meant, I wonder what he wants to say. At that moment the boys' eyes met, and Fitz said, as if to evade a question-- "Don't you learn navigation--take observations, and that sort of thing?" "Oh yes, lots of it; but I have been having a holiday since you've been on board. So have you. It must be quite a change after your busy life on board a gunboat, drilling and signalling, and all that sort of thing." Fitz was hearing him speak, but listening intently all the time, so that he gave an eager start and exclaimed-- "Here's your father coming now." For steps were plainly heard on the companion-ladder, and the next minute the door was thrust open, and the bluff-looking skipper entered the cabin. "Morning, sir," he cried. "How are we this morning? Oh, it doesn't want any telling. You are getting on grandly. Did Poole tell you I wanted you to come up on deck this afternoon?" "Yes, sir; thank you. I feel a deal better now, only my legs are very weak when I try to stand up holding on by my berth." "Yes, I suppose so," said the skipper, sitting down by the boy's head and watching him keenly. "You are weak, of course, but it's more imaginary than real. Any one who lays up for a week or two would feel weak when he got out of bed." "But my head swims so, sir." "Exactly. That's only another sign. You are eating well now, and getting quite yourself. But I am going to prescribe you another dose." "Physic?" said Fitz, with a look of disgust. "Yes, fresh air physic. I want you to take it very coolly for the next few days, but to keep on deck always except in the hottest times. In another week you won't know yourself." "Hah!" ejaculated the boy. "Then now, sir--don't think me ungrateful, for nobody could be kinder to me than you and Poole here have shown yourselves since I have been aboard." "Thank you, my lad, for both of us," said the skipper, smiling good-humouredly. "I am glad you give such ruffians as we are so good a character. But you were going to say something." "Yes, sir," said the boy excitedly, and he cleared his voice, which had grown husky. "Go on, then. You are beating about the bush as if you had some favour to ask. What is it?" "I want," cried Fitz excitedly, and his cheeks flushed and eyes flashed--"I want you, sir," he repeated, "now that you say I'm better and fit to get about--" "On deck," said the skipper dryly. "Oh yes, and anywhere as soon as this giddiness has passed off... I want you now, sir, to set me ashore." "Hah! Yes," said the skipper slowly. "I knew we were coming to that." "Why, of course, sir. Think of what I must have suffered and felt." "I thought Poole here had done his best to make you comfortable, my lad." "Oh yes, and he has, sir," cried the boy, turning to look full in his attendant's eyes. "He has been a splendid fellow, sir. Nobody could have been kinder to me than he has, even at my worst times, when I was so ill and irritable that I behaved to him like a surly brute." "It's your turn now, Poole," growled the skipper, "to say 'Thank you' for that." "But you must feel, sir, how anxious and worried I must be--how eager to get back to my ship. In another day or two, Captain Reed, I shall be quite well enough to go. Promise me, sir, that you will set me ashore." The skipper had pursed up his lips as if he were going to whistle for the wind, and he turned his now frowning face to look steadfastly at his son, who met his eyes with a questioning gaze, while the midshipman looked anxiously from one to the other, as if seeking to catch an encouraging look which failed to come. At last the boy broke the silence again, trying to speak firmly; but, paradoxically, weakness was too strong, and his voice sounded cracked as he cried, almost pitifully-- "Oh, Captain Reed! Promise me you will now set me ashore!" The skipper was silent for a few moments, before turning his face slowly to meet the appealing look in the boy's eyes. "Set you ashore?" he said gruffly. "Yes, sir, please. Pray do!" And the answer came-- "Where, my boy? Where?" _ |
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