Chapter 9. How The Stowaway Stowed Himself

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_ CHAPTER NINE. HOW THE STOWAWAY STOWED HIMSELF

Glorious weather with the coasts of Africa and Europe visible together as they passed the straits. Then lovely summer days with pleasant winds as they sailed along the Mediterranean. The passengers were nearly always on deck, basking in the morning sunshine or taking refuge under the awning. The Scotch merchant took snuff; the three German students, who all wore spectacles and seemed exactly alike, leaned over the side in a row, smoked big meerschaum pipes, looked round-faced and bibulous, and very often uttered the word _Zo_. The stout doctor read books all day long; and the Irish major followed he captain everywhere, to declaim against the injustices practised in the army. "Injustices, sor, which have kept me down to meejor when I ought to have been a gineral;" and as he talked Mrs Major worked with Mrs Strong, and watched her daughter, a pretty bright girl of twelve, who passed her time between her books and watching the three German students as she tried to recollect which was which.

"Ah, captain," said the major to him one day, as they were all gazing at a large steamer that was passing them easily, "you won't understand me. You're a backward man, or you'd be in command of a fast steamer instead of a slow sailing ship."

"Sailing ships are quite dangerous enough, major, without having hundreds of tons of coal aboard, and a large fire roaring night and day. Fires are risky things aboard ship."

"Not if there's a properly disciplined crew on board, sor," said the major. "Bah!"

He cocked his cap on one side, and leaned forward to watch the passing steamer.

"I hope we should do our duty if we did have a fire, discipline or no discipline," said the captain gruffly, and the subject dropped.

It was a trifling incident, but it set several people on board thinking. It was, however, soon forgotten, and with the sea, as Billy Widgeon said, as smooth as a mill-pond, and all sail set, the great East Indiaman continued her course, the journey now being thoroughly enjoyable.

There were plenty of little incidents occurring to keep the trip from being monotonous. About every twenty-four hours Mr Gregory was finding fault with David Jimpny, who seemed to be one of those unfortunates who never succeed. From scraps of his history, which he insisted upon retailing to Mark when he could find him alone, it seemed that his life had been so many scenes of trouble.

"I'm a-trying hard, sir, as hard as I can, to be a sailor, but I don't get on. My hands never seem to manage ropes, and it's no use for Mr Gregory to bully me. I daren't go up these rope ladders; if I did I know I should be drowned."

In spite of this Mr Gregory one day ordered him aloft, and the poor fellow managed to get up as high as the mainmast head, when he seemed entirely to lose his nerve, and, letting his legs slip in between the shrouds, he clung there with his hands clutching the ratlines, and holding on for life.

"Go on up, sir; go on up," shouted the first-mate, and his hoarse orders attracted the attention of the passengers. But the poor fellow did not move, and growing tired at last, the mate ordered him to come down.

This order was of as much effect as those which preceded it, the man remaining motionless.

"If this was only the royal navy," cried the mate, "I'd have you spread-eagled up there and lashed to the rigging till you got used to it. Here, where are you going, youngster?"

"Up to see what's the matter," said Mark coolly; and swinging himself up he began to climb the rigging.

It was his first attempt, and as his feet began to make acquaintance with the ratlines he awoke for the first time to the fact that though they looked just like a ladder to climb it was a very different matter. They gave and the shrouds felt loose and seemed to sway; the height above looked terrific, and the distance below to the deck quite startling. That clean-boarded deck, too, appeared as if it would be horribly hard to fall upon; but a doubt arose in his mind as to what would be the consequences if he slipped--would he fall with a crash upon the deck, or slip part of the way down the shrouds, and be shot off into that extremely soft place, the sea?

The idea was so startling that he glanced down at it, to see that it looked gloriously clear and sunlit--transparent to a degree; but the great ship was gliding through it swiftly, and he knew that he would go down and down with the impetus of his fall, and come up somewhere in the current to be carried far astern in the troubled water in the wake of the ship.

How long would it take them to get down a boat? and what would become of him while he was waiting? He could swim as boys do swim in an ordinary way, who learn in some river or pool at school; but that was very different to being left astern in the sea with the ship going eight or nine knots an hour; and he felt that he would be drowned before help could come.

Then there were the sharks!

He did not know that there were any sharks, but his brain suggested to him that there would certainly be at least one big fellow whose back fin would be seen cutting the water as he glided towards his victim, his cross-cut mouth with its cruel, triangular saw-edged teeth ready; and then there would be the water stained with blood, and as he rose to the surface without, say, a leg, he would hear his mother's despairing shriek, and then--

He had got up about a dozen ratlines while his imagination had painted all that picture for him, and the result was that he set his teeth hard and went on climbing, but thoroughly realising the while how it was David Jimpny, the miserable stowaway, had lost his nerve, and was now clinging above him in that absurd attitude, with his legs stuck through between the shrouds.

Another minute and he was as high, holding on with both hands, and listening to the buzz of voices on deck, but particularly careful not to look down again.

"I'll think about what I'm doing," he said to himself, "and then I sha'n't be afraid."

"Hullo! Jimpny," he said aloud, "what's the matter?" and, setting one hand at liberty, he gave the man a slap on the shoulder.

"Don't, don't! Pray, don't touch me, or I shall fall," groaned the wretched man.

"Nonsense! you won't fall. Get up through that hole on to the woodwork."

"What, is it you, Mr Strong, sir?"

"Me? yes. I've come up to see what's the matter."

"Oh, take care, sir, or you'll tumble overboard."

"Nonsense! you've only got to hold tight," cried Mark to his own astonishment, for he could not understand how the man's cowardice should make him brave.

"I--I did hold tight. I am holding tight, sir, but I daren't move. Oh, I do feel so giddy. What shall I do?"

"Try and be a man," said Mark. "The mate's horribly cross with you. Here, hold tight with your hands and draw your legs out."

"I--I daren't stir," groaned the wretched man, "I should fall if I did. My head's all of a swim."

"Yes, because you frighten yourself," said Mark.

"Now then, Strong," cried the mate, "is that fellow asleep?"

"No, sir, he's coming down directly."

"Coming down!" growled the mate. "There, take care of him and mind he don't fall."

"You hear what he says," whispered Mark. "Come on up here. I'll go first and show you the way."

Truth to tell Mark did not want to go any higher, but under the circumstances he felt bound, terrible as it looked, and the remainder of the climb over the man's head was not made any the pleasanter by the poor wretch moaning out--

"Oh, don't! oh, don't! You'll push me off! You'll fall! I know you'll fall."

But Mark did not fall, and though he chose the easier way up he did display some courage, and lay flat down to extend a hand to his miserable companion.

"There, take hold of my hand. I'll help you," he said.

The man shook his head--wisely, perhaps, for Mark's help would not have been great as far as sustaining him went.

"I can't--I daren't move," he said. "It's as bad as being shut up in the hold. Please call for help."

"Ahoy, there!" shouted a familiar voice. "What are you doing, Mark?"

"Trying to help this man, father."

"Here, Jimpny," shouted the captain, "get up, sir. Don't hang in the rigging there like that."

The man moaned, and only clung the closer.

"Do you hear, sir?" cried the captain; but the man was livid, and as he gazed wildly up at Mark, the lad lowered himself down, thrust an arm round one of the ropes, and took a firm grasp of his collar.

"What's the matter, Mark?" cried the captain.

"He's going to faint, I think."

"Here, Small, up aloft with a rope there," cried the captain, "and make it fast round him."

The boatswain seized a coil of line and trotted to the other side of the deck. Mark saw him cross, but was astonished to see how soon he appeared at the mast-head.

"Hold tight, youngster," he said, "I'll soon give him his physic."

"What are you going to do?" cried Mark.

"Hang him. You'll see," said the boatswain with a chuckle.

Jimpny groaned and seemed to cling spasmodically to the shrouds as the great seaman slipped the end of the rope round him and made it fast. After which he passed the other end of the rope over a stay and lowered it down to the deck.

"Ready below?" he shouted.

"All right!" came up.

"You get a bit higher, youngster. That's your sort. Now, my London prime, let go with them hands."

"No, no," groaned the unfortunate man. "I dare not."

"Then I shall have to make you," roared the boatswain. "Heave ahead there!"

The rope tightened and there was a tremendous strain upon the man's chest, while, by a dexterous snatch, Small jerked one of the clinging hands free and thrust Jimpny off the shroud, making him swing round in the air, and this helped to jerk the other hand from its grip.

"Now you have him. Down he goes."

It was all so rapidly done that it took Mark's breath away. One minute the miserable man was clinging there half fainting, the next he was swinging in the air and being slowly lowered down to the deck.

"You don't want sarving that way, my lad," said the boatswain laughing. "Catch hold o' that rope and slide down. I'll go this way."

Mark shrank for a moment but seized the rope the next, and slid down so quickly that his hands felt uncomfortably warm, and he reached the deck as Billy Widgeon was unfastening the rope from round Jimpny's chest.

"Nice sorter sailor that, Captain Strong," said Mr Gregory sourly.

"Yes," said the captain quietly. "Don't send him aloft again. Let him help the cook."

"Help the cook! Do you want to poison us, sir?"

"No. The man has no nerve, but he may prove himself useful some other way."

"You are a brave boy," said a pleasant silvery voice behind Mark, and turning sharply round, it was to see the major's little daughter hurrying toward the cabin, in which she disappeared.

"There, go below," said the mate angrily, "and don't show yourself to me again for a week."

The stowaway rose and crept away, looking sideways at the sea, and somehow Mark could not help feeling sorry for his pitiful case.

Mark did not feel as if he had been brave, and as they sat at tea that evening and he looked across at where Mary O'Halloran was seated with her mother, he said to himself that if she knew all he had thought up aloft and what his sensations were she would have looked upon him as an impostor.

He felt so uncomfortable all that evening, and worried, that he longed to get away by himself, for the conversation seemed to be all about him.

"I should make a soldier of him," said the major to Captain Strong. "The only career for a brave boy, sir, in spite of the disgraceful management at the War Office."

Mark winced, and glanced towards those peaceful young gentlemen, the German agricultural students; but they were all three beaming upon him with their spectacles, looking about as round in the face and as inexpressive as so many enlarged buns.

He glanced at the little Scottish merchant, but he took snuff and nodded at him.

The stout doctor was looking at him and making notes in a memorandum book, as if he were writing down an account of the affair.

Mr Morgan was on deck; but Mr Gregory, as soon as their eyes met, deliberately winked at him.

He turned his gaze upon his father, to find that he was thoughtfully watching him; while, after receiving a friendly shake of the head from Mrs Major and a merry look from Mary, who seemed to be enjoying his confusion, as a last resource the lad looked at his mother, to find she had ready for him a tender smile.

"And she put three extra lumps of sugar in my tea," said Mark to himself. "I never felt so ashamed of anything in my life."

To make matters worse, the major began in a loud voice to talk about the heroic deeds of boys as found in history, and though the saloon cabin was hot enough before, it seemed now to Mark that it was tropical, and he was only too glad to go out on deck and wipe his streaming face in the company of Bruff and Jack the monkey, who, from becoming the companion of the dog, was willing enough to transfer some of his friendliness to the dog's master.

But even here he was not left in peace, for Billy Widgeon came up to compliment him on his climbing.

"Look ye here, Mr Strong, sir, you'll do it. You come up with me and we'll go right up to the main-topgallant cross-trees to-morrow. I'll see as you don't fall."

"Oh, bother the climbing!" cried Mark. "I wish there wasn't a bit of rigging in the ship."

"But we couldn't get on without rigging, Mr Mark, sir," said the little sailor taking the impatient words literally. "See how them sails is spread. Rigging's a fine thing, sir; so's a ship. You be a sailor, sir, and when you're a skipper you have me for your bosun. I aren't so big as old Small, but I'd put a deal o' heart into it, and keep the men up to the mark."

"Oh, I shall never be a captain," said Mark impatiently.

"I don't know so much about that, sir. All the lads says as it was wonderful the way you went up after the rat."

"After the what!"

"Rat, sir. The lads calls that stowaway chap the rat because he made hisself a hole down in the cargo. Lor' a me, think of a thing like that calling hisself a man!"

"But he has been half starved, Billy, and kicked about in the world. Perhaps if you'd been brought down as low you would have been as great a coward."

"Hah! I never thought o' that," said Billy scratching his head. "I say, Mr Mark, sir, how you do put things. But no, sir, you aren't right--leastwise not quite, you see; because if I'd been brought down like that, and felt as scared as he did, I wouldn't have let anyone know, fear o' being laughed at."

"You don't know and I don't know, so we can't discuss it," said Mark. "Here, what are you going to do?"

"Ketch Master Jack and take him to his snuggery. He's a-getting into bad habits since your dog's come aboard, sir. Monkeys is a sooperior sort o' animal, and the men's been talking it over."

"Talking it over?"

"Yes, sir. They says as a monkey's next door to a man. Not as I thinks so."

"Then what do you think, Billy?"

"Oh, I think he lives several streets off, sir; but the men thinks tother, and they says as though it's all werry well for a monkey to play with a dog and be friends, just as a man might; it's going down hill like for him to make a habit o' sleeping in a dog-kennel."

"Nonsense! the monkey's happy enough with the dog."

"So was a mate o' mine with the Noo Zeeling savages, after cutting away from his ship; but our old skipper said he ought to be ashamed of hisself for going and living that way, and them beginning to tattoo him in a pattern. He said he was a-degrading of hisself, and fetched him aboard, saying as if he wanted tattooing some of his messmates should mark his back with a rope's end. No, sir, we thinks a deal o' that monkey--our crew does--and we don't want to see him go wrong."

"What stuff! My Bruff is quite as intelligent an animal as your monkey. Suppose I said he should not associate with the ugly brute?"

"No, no, sir: Jack aren't ugly," said Billy Widgeon in protest. "He aren't handsome, but no one can't say as he's ugly; while that dog--"

"Oh, he isn't handsome either, but it's absurd to draw the line between the two animals like that."

"Well, sir, I tell you what the men says; and they thinks a deal o' Jacko, and looks after his morals wonderful. We do let him chew tobacco, though it don't agree with him, 'cause he will swaller it; but as to a drop o' rum, why, Old Greg nearly chucked a man overboard once for giving him a tot, and Small the boatswain stopped one chap's grog for a week for teaching Jack to drink. We thinks a deal of that monkey, sir."

"And I think a deal of my dog, and keep him a deal cleaner than Jack. But I don't want them to be together. Take Jack away."

"Werry sorry, Mr Mark, sir. Mean no offence," said Billy apologetically; "but it's the men, sir. They think a deal o' that monkey."

Billy went forward with a chain and a strap to where a kennel had been made for Bruff, by turning a flour barrel on its side and wedging it between two hencoops, and here, greatly to the vexation of the chickens, who lived in dread of Jack's long hairy arm and clever fingers, which were always stretching through the bars to pull their feathers, the monkey had--to use Billy's words--"just turned in." The barrel held the two animals tightly, and there they were cuddled up together in the most friendly manner, Jack with his head right in towards the end, Bruff with his long black muzzle to the front, and Jacko's tail moving up and down in regular motion as he breathed.

"Here! you've got to come home," cried Billy, making a dash at the monkey's legs, but he started back as quickly as he went forward, for Bruff sprang up, and, twitching his ears, burst into a furious fit of barking, while Jack got behind him and chattered his defiance.

"Well, that's a rum game," said Billy, rubbing his nose with a rusty link of the chain he held; "think o' them two sticking up for one another like that."

"Now, then, which is the more intelligent animal?" said Mark, laughing.

"Well, sir, I dunno, but if so be as you'd take your dog away--"

"No," said Mark quietly, "I sha'n't interfere. The monkey's happier there than down in your stuffy forecastle."

"Which I won't deny as it is stuffy, sir, far from it," said Billy; "but when you get used to the smell you don't mind, and I'm sure Jack likes it. So call away your dog."

"No," said Mark, "you may get him away if you like."

"Well, if so be as I must, I must," said the little sailor. "The men says they wants Jacko, and--Lor' a me!"

As he spoke he had gone down on one knee to reach into the barrel and get hold of Jack's leg, but at the angry remonstrative cry of the monkey as he felt it seized, Bruff made so furious an attack upon the sailor that he started back and rolled over, to find Bruff spring upon his chest.

"Hold hard, mate; don't bite. I gives up," said Billy quietly. "Call him off, Mr Mark, sir."

But the lad had already caught the dog by the collar, and dragged him away growling.

Just then Jack sprang out of the barrel chattering loudly, and bounded toward the main hatchway. Bruff followed as if understanding the call, and as the monkey sprang down the dog leaped after him, but did not descend the steps so cleverly as his quadrumanous friend, the fact being made plain to those on deck by a loud scratching and scuffling noise, followed by a heavy bump.

"That there's the dog," said Billy sitting up and scratching his ear. "His head's too heavy for going down them steps nose fust. Think we can catch Jack now?"

"No, that you will not," said Mark, laughing at his companion's troubled face. "Did Bruff frighten you?"

"S'pose he did, sir. He made me feel mortal queer for a minute. But I s'pose he wouldn't bite. Here, they may fetch the monkey theirselves," he continued, rising slowly; "I shan't try no more; and if his manners is spylte by 'sociating with dogs it aren't my fault."

Billy Widgeon went forward toward the forecastle in his calm even-tempered way, and Mr Morgan, who had been looking on from the poop-deck, came and joined Mark, to stand talking with him as they leaned over the side gazing up at the transparent starry sky, or down at the clear dark sea, while they listened to the rushing water as the great ship glided on under quite a cloud of canvas. The night was now dark, with the ship's sailing lanterns and the glow from the cabin-windows showing faintly and casting reflections upon the unruffled sea.

"Suppose we were to run on to another ship, Mr Morgan," said Mark at last, breaking a long silence. "What then?"

"If we kept such a bad look-out, and they did the same, most likely we should go to the bottom, perhaps both of us; but you turn in and leave all that to the watch." _

Read next: Chapter 10. How Bruff Sounded The Alarm

Read previous: Chapter 8. How Captain Jack Came On Deck

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