Chapter 4. How There Was An Unwelcome Passenger

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_ CHAPTER FOUR. HOW THERE WAS AN UNWELCOME PASSENGER

"Here, Mark, my boy," said the captain; "come here and I'll show you your cabin."

The lad was standing watching half a dozen men who were reefing a square sail high up on the mainmast, and the process gave him a peculiar sensation of moisture in the hands and chill in the back, for the men were standing upon a rope looped beneath the yard, and apparently holding on by resting the top button of their trousers upon this horizontal spar, their hands being fully occupied with hauling in and folding up the new stiff canvas of the sail.

"I say, father," he said, "isn't that dangerous?"

"What, my lad?"

"The work those men are doing."

"What, up aloft? H'm, yes, no! They're so used to it that it has ceased to be dangerous, my boy. Use is second nature. It would be dangerous for you or me."

Mark followed, and the captain showed him his cabin.

"You're a lucky one," he said. "There's a place all to yourself. Are you going to stay aboard?"

"Yes, father. I've sent my bag, and mother is going to meet me here this evening."

"That's right. Now I must be off to see the owners. Keep out of the way as well as you can. I suppose you will find plenty to amuse yourself."

Mark said, "Oh, yes!" but he felt as if there was going to be very little that was amusing; and as he saw his father go toward the gangway and speak to the first-mate, who seemed to reply with a surly nod, the office of captain seemed of less account than ever.

The scene was not inspiriting. It was a dull, cold, cheerless afternoon in May; the deck was one chaos of bales, packages, and boxes. Ropes were lying about as if there was no such thing as order on board a ship. Forward there was a pile of rusty chain, and if the new-comer stirred a step he was sure to be in somebody's way; and when, in response to a hoarse "by yer leave," he moved somewhere else, it was to find himself in a worse position still.

Bruff quite shared his feelings, and showed it by shivering from time to time, and, after getting behind Mark, trying to drive his head between his master's legs, an attempt that was always met by a rebuff, for Mark had not yet gained his sea-legs and taken to walking with his feet very wide apart.

But all the same there was a deal to notice, and by degrees the lad grew interested as he wondered how it was possible for the yawning hatch in the middle of the deck to swallow up such an endless number of crates and boxes, bales and packages, of all kinds. While what seemed more astonishing was the fact, that as fast as the cargo disappeared more was brought aboard from the quay, where it was unloaded from vans and carts.

"Here, hi! young Strong!" cried the mate suddenly. "Come here."

Mark walked up to him hastily as he stood near the gangway, talking to a custom-house officer.

"Oh, there you are! Look here, which is it--wasp or bee!"

"Wasp or bee, sir--which?"

The customs-officer laughed, and Mark coloured up, but Mr Gregory stood with his red nose shining and his pimply face as hard and cold as a statue's.

"Which? Why, you--come aboard to idle or work?"

"I don't know, sir. Can I do anything?"

"How should I know? I should say not, by the look of you. Will you try?"

"Yes, sir. I should be glad to," cried Mark.

"Come, that's better. Take that piece of chalk, and tally."

"I--I don't know how."

"Bah! what do they teach boys at schools nowadays? Do you mean to tell me you can't make a mark and keep count of those barrels of beer they're going to bring on board?"

"Why, of course I can, sir."

"Then why did you say you couldn't?"

"You told me to tallow something, sir."

"I didn't! Here, catch hold of the chalk and make a mark there against every one that's rolled on board. Hallo, ugly! you're there then!" continued the mate, suppressing a smile and addressing Bruff, who gave him a sour look and went behind his master.

Mark took the chalk, and for the next half-hour he was busy checking the barrels. This done there was a succession of boxes to be accounted for in the same way, and after them a hundred sacks, the arrival of the latter putting the mate in a furious passion.

"For two straws I wouldn't have them aboard," he roared. "They were to have been delivered a week ago, and here are we kept waiting like this."

And still the vessel kept on swallowing up cargo, the riggers gave the finishing touches to the vessel's ropes and sails, and the confusion appeared to grow worse instead of better; but in spite of a low-spirited sensation, Mark was fain to confess to himself that he had been interested if not amused, when the least sailor-like man he had seen on board came from the cabin-door and spoke to the mate, who gave a slight nod, and the man went back.

The former individual then went to the big opening in the deck:

"Below! Morgan!" he shouted.

"Ahoy!" came from somewhere in the interior of the great vessel, and directly after a pleasant, manly, brown face appeared above the steps.

"Take charge; I'm going to have some tea."

"All right! Who's this?"

"Skipper's cub," said the first-mate shortly. "Here, boy, come along."

The new arrival gave him a friendly nod, and Mark's first sensation was that he would have preferred to stay with him, but the first-mate looked back, and he followed quickly into the cabin, where the sight of a comfortable meal, with clean cloth, and an appetising odour, changed the current of his thoughts.

"Engines that work want coal and water," said the mate gruffly. "We've been at work; let's coal. Sit down."

Mark obeyed, and Bruff crept under his seat.

"You've brought that dog with you, then?"

"He came, sir."

"Same thing. I hate dogs. Take off that cover."

Mark obeyed, and there was a steaming dish of fried steak and onions, looking tempting in the extreme.

"Now, then, will you carve or be old woman?"

"I--I'll carve," said Mark, for though he had a suspicion that to be old woman meant pouring out the tea, he was not sure.

"Go ahead, then, my lad. Plates hot?"

"Yes, sir."

"That's your style. Don't be afraid of the onions. No ladies aboard."

Mark helped the steak, and the mate poured out the tea and hewed a couple of lumps off a cottage-loaf.

"There you are," he said; "and make much of it. No steaks and new bread at sea."

"But you've plenty of other things, sir."

"Humph, yes! We manage to live. More sugar?"

"No, sir, thanks."

"Help yourself, my lad. Rum un, aren't I?"

"You don't expect me to say what I think, do you?" said Mark smiling.

"One to you, boy," said the mate, nodding; and this time there was a vestige of a smile on his plain face. "Here, ugly, try that."

This was the outside of a big piece of gristly steak which the mate cut off, and held toward the dog, who approached slowly and as if in doubt, but ended by taking it.

"Yah! What are you sniffing at? Think there was mustard on it? Big friends, I suppose, you and him?"

"Yes, sir, we're capital friends."

"Humph! Better make friends with a good lad of your age. I hate dogs. What are you laughing at?"

"You, sir."

"Eh? Oh! I see!" paid the mate grimly. "I do, though, all the same. Don't you believe it?"

"No," replied Mark smiling; "and Bruff does not believe it either."

For after the mate had given the dog a couple of pieces of steak, Bruff had stopped by him and laid the heavy head upon his knee to patiently wait for further consignments of cargo, which, however, did not come, for the chief officer was thoughtfully stirring his tea with his left hand, while his right, as he said he hated dogs, was involuntarily rubbing the rough jowl, the process being so satisfactory that Bruff half-closed his eyes.

"Humph! This seems a better dog than some," said the mate. "No business on board ship, though. I don't even like chickens; but we're obliged to put up with them. I'm always glad, though, when they're eaten. I once went a voyage with a cow on deck. They wanted the milk for an officer's lady and her children. That cow used to make me melancholy."

"Why, sir? Was she such a bad sailor?"

"No; she was always stretching out her neck to try and lick some green paint off one of the boats. Thought it was grass. Cows have no brains. Hallo! What is it, Billy?"

"Mr Morgan wants you, sir."

"What is it?"

"One on 'em, sir, right below."

"Bah!" ejaculated the mate. "Coming directly. Let him wait till I've finished my tea."

The sailor gave Mark a knowing look, and made a sign which the lad did not comprehend, as he disappeared through the door.

Mark would have given something to ask who "one on 'em" was, for the news seemed to have ruffled the mate terribly. A few minutes before he had been growing quite friendly; now he was as gruff as ever, finishing his steak viciously, and drinking his tea far hotter than was good for him.

"I'd like to trice them all up and give them the cat," he exclaimed suddenly, and with so much emphasis that at the last magic word Bruff suddenly sprang into action, cocked his ears and tail, uttered a fierce growling bark, and then looked excitedly from one to the other, his eyes plainly enough asking the question "Where?"

"Get out with you, ugly!" cried the mate. "I meant the cat with nine tails, not the cat with nine lives. Here, young Strong, whatever you do, never take to being mate in the merchant service."

He went out on deck, and Mark followed him, eager to see what was the matter; and as he passed out, it was to hear the second-mate say:

"I was coming after you; the poor wretch's groans are awful."

"Serve him right, the scoundrel! Government ought to interfere and put a stop to it."

"But, my dear Gregory, hadn't we better get the poor wretch out, and settle the government interference afterwards?"

"These men make me half mad," cried the first-mate. "Where do you suppose he is?"

"A long way down, I'm afraid."

"And we are behind with our lading. How can a man be such an idiot as to expose himself to such risks?" cried the first-mate.

"Sheer ignorance. If they thought they were likely to be crushed to death or suffocated, they would not do it."

"What is the matter?" asked Mark anxiously.

"Stowaway, my lad," said the second-mate. "Man hidden himself in the hold, and is frightened now the cargo has been packed over him."

A peculiar chill ran through Mark as he realised the horror of the man's position, perhaps below the huge bales and cases which he had seen lowered down into the hold, and so inclosed that it would be impossible to get to him before life was extinct. _

Read next: Chapter 5. How Bruff Showed He Had A Nose

Read previous: Chapter 3. How First-Mate Gregory Did Not Like Dogs

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