Home > Authors Index > George Manville Fenn > Jack at Sea > This page
Jack at Sea, a novel by George Manville Fenn |
||
Chapter 10. Jack Begins To Come Round |
||
| < Previous |
Table of content |
Next > |
|
________________________________________________
_ CHAPTER TEN. JACK BEGINS TO COME ROUND "Oh dear, I do feel so ashamed of myself," said the doctor at breakfast that morning. "Edward, bring me another egg, and some more of that ham." "Well, sir, if you do," said the captain, smiling, "I ought to be, but I'm not. More coffee, Sir John?" "Thanks, no, I'm taking tea. Jack, my boy, will you try another cup?" The lad hesitated for a moment, and then drew aside for Edward to refill his cup, with which he had been eating sparingly of some well-made toast. "Find that rather stale, Mr Jack?" said the captain. "No; it is very nice," said the lad. "Ah, the toasting takes it off. Four days out. That's as long as we go with the same bread. Begin making our own to-morrow." Just then Edward handed Doctor Instow a goodly rasher of broiled ham, upon which was a perfectly poached egg; and directly after the man came round behind Jack, and quietly placed before him, with a whisper of warning that the plate was very hot, another rasher of ham, and at the first sight of it the lad began to shrink, but at the second glance, consequent upon a brave desire not to show his repugnance, he saw that it was a different kind of rasher to the doctor's, and that there was no egg. It was small and crisp and thin, of a most beautiful brown, with scarcely any fat, and showing not a drop in the hot plate. There was a peculiar aroma, too, rising from it, grateful and appetising, and after sipping at his fresh hot cup of tea--the second--twice, Jack broke off another fragment of his crisp toast and ate it slowly. A minute passed away, his four companions eating in sea-going fashion, which is rather costly to the person that caters, and they were talking aloud meantime, but every one present made a point of not taking the slightest notice of the sensitive lad. That hot tea at the first mouthful of the first cup was nauseating, and Jack glanced toward the door and waited before venturing upon a second. But that second mouthful was not so bad, and it seemed to him that the captain certainly had good tea provided. Then Jack had broken off a scrap of the brown toast and eaten it, feeling at the end of a minute or two that he had never before known what well-made toast was like. And so he had gone on very slowly, but certainly surely, till that piece of broiled ham--just such a piece as might tempt an invalid--was placed before him by Edward, who winked afterwards at the steward. Jack would have resisted with scorn the suggestion that he was an invalid, and he was in utter ignorance of the doctor having entered into a conspiracy with the steward and cook just before they sat down; but that triumvirate had conspired all the same, and the result was that dry toast and that thin shaving of brown ham, which from the moment it was placed under his nose began to tempt him. What wonder! Three days lying in a berth aboard ship, three days of hardly touching food; and now at last sitting at a pleasant breakfast-table in an exasperating appetite-sharpening atmosphere, which came in through the open window along with the bright sunshine, while four people were cheerily chatting and eating away like men who knew how good breakfast can be. Then, too, there was that insidious preparation--that sending in of skirmishers of dry toast to attack the enemy before a bold advance was made with the ham. Was it strange then that after another glance round, and telling himself that it was really to keep the others from thinking him too squeamish, Jack daintily cut off a tiny brown corner of the fragrant, saline, well-flavoured ham, and placed it in his mouth? No: it did not disgust him in the least, and he ate it, and then glanced half-guiltily at the doctor, who was bending over his plate and gilding one of his own ham fragments with yolk of egg; but the doctor had very heavy eyebrows, and from behind them he had been watching the lad's acts, and as he saw him begin to cut another piece a little browner than the last, he winked to himself twice, and then burst out with-- "I say, captain; I suppose when we get into smoother water we might get a bit of fresh fish for the table?" "Oh, yes, something of the mackerel kind; eh, Bartlett?" The mate entered into the conversation directly, and in a quiet, modest way chatted about the possibilities of success, but advised waiting until the yacht was gliding steadily before a light breeze. Still nobody turned to say a word to Jack, who sat and listened, growing by degrees a little interested over some remarks that were made about "the grains," which gradually began to take shape before him as a kind of javelin made on the model of Neptune's trident, and which it seemed had a long thin line attached to its shaft, and was thus used to dart at large fish when they were seen playing about under the vessel's counter, though what a vessel's counter was, and whether it bore any resemblance to that used in a shop, the lad did not know. It was somewhere about the time of the last remarks being made by the mate, in which "the grains" were somehow connected with the bobstay, that Jack proceeded to cut another fragment of that crisp juicy ham; but he did not cut it, for the simple reason that there was none left to utilise the knife and fork, which he laid together in his plate with a sigh. And somehow just the most filmy or shadowy idea of the possibility that the steward might ask him if he would take a little more crossed his mind, along with a kind of wondering thought that if the man did, what he would say in reply. But the man did not ask, and Jack glanced at the toast-rack, which was, like his tea-cup, empty. There was a pause now in the conversation, the captain looked inquiringly round, and then tapped the table lightly and said grace. "Like to see how we take observations by and by, Mr Jack?" he said. "With a telescope?" said Jack quickly, feeling relieved that no one asked him how he felt now. "Well, yes, we do use a little glass in the business attached to the sextant. But you thought I meant observations of the land?" "Yes." "No, we are far away from land now. We take our observations from the sun at twelve o'clock, and then I can give you the exact spot where we are upon the chart." "That's curious," said Jack. "Yes, sir; curious, but quite commonplace now. It's worth noticing though how cleverly scientific men have worked it out for us, and what with our instruments, the chronometer, and the nautical almanac, we only want a bit of sunshine to be able to find out our bearings and never feel afraid of being lost." "I'll come and see how it's done." "Do, sir, at noon; and you'll like to see the heaving of the log as well." The captain was right; the wind dropped--and quite suddenly--a good hour before noon, and Jack found himself beginning to feel a little hungry and hollow inside just about the time when the sextant was brought out, but he felt interested in what was being done, and found himself beginning to think that perhaps after all there might be something during the voyage to compensate for the deprivations he was to suffer with respect to his regular studies and his books. It was curious, too, how little he began to think of the rising and falling of the vessel, as she glided over the waves, which were rough enough, and sparkled brilliantly in the sunshine; but the fore-part of the deck was dry now and warm, while the yacht looked picturesque and cheery, with the crew busy over various matters connected with the navigation. But nobody made the slightest allusion now to his having been ill, or asked how he felt, and the colour came into the lad's cheeks once as he caught his father's eyes, which somehow seemed to wear a more contented and satisfied look, but he only said quietly-- "I say, Jack, lad, do you think we could sit down in a chair now without being shot out?" Jack felt obliged to reply, so he said-- "Let's try." _ |
||