Home > Authors Index > George Manville Fenn > Old Gold; or, The Cruise of the "Jason" Brig > This page
Old Gold; or, The Cruise of the "Jason" Brig, a novel by George Manville Fenn |
||
Chapter 1. Over Yonder |
||
| Table of content |
Next > |
|
|
________________________________________________
_ CHAPTER ONE. OVER YONDER It was very, very hot. That is to say, it was as hot as it knows how to be in Johnstown, Guiana, which means a damp, sticky, stifling kind of heat. The sun made the muddy river look oily, and the party of three seated under the great fig-tree which shaded the boarding-house by the wharf seemed as if they were slowly melting away like so much of the sugar of which the wharves and warehouses and the vessels moored in the river smelt. Let us be quite correct: it was more the smell of treacle, and the casks and sugar bags piled up under an open-sided shed all looked gummy and sticky; while the flies--there, it was just as if all the flies in the world, little and big, had been attracted to hum, buzz, and in some cases utter useless cries for help when they had managed to get their wings daubed with the sweet juice and strove vainly to rise in the air. Captain David Banes, a weather-beaten sailor of about forty, took off his Panama hat, drew a yellow silk handkerchief out of the crown, and dabbed the drops off his face, brow, and the top of his head, which looked as if it had been rubbed and polished till all the hair for a broad space had been cleared away. Then he said: "_Phe-ew_!" put the handkerchief back, and nursed his hat upon his knees, as he stared across the rough table, upon which coffee and breakfast-cups were standing, at the sun-burned gentleman who looked something like a modern yachtsman, though it was a good seventy years ago. The latter looked back at him half-smilingly, took out a handkerchief and wiped his face, and glanced across at another sun-burned individual, to wit, a young man something like him in face, who was driving away flies from the sugar-basin, at which interference with their sweet pleasure they buzzed angrily, and the moment a spoonful of sugar had been taken out settled back. "It's hot, Brace," said the second personage. "Yes, I know," said the young fellow, smiling. "I found that out myself." "Ay, youngster," said the captain, "and it don't want a man o' genous to find that out. I always say this is the hottest place there is, for I never found a hotter. I dessay it is worse in our cook's oven, but I never tried that." He looked first at one and then at the other, as if he expected them to laugh; but as they did not he screwed up his face, coughed unnecessarily, and then said: "Yes, it is hot, gentlemen. Wants to be if you mean to grow sugar." "And coffee, captain," said the second personage; and just then there was a dismal creaking sound made by a windlass, a musical _yo-yo-ing_ came from a vessel moored to the wharf, and a big sugar hogshead was wound up to a certain height, the crane which bore it was swung round, and as the wheels creaked the great hogshead began to descend slowly towards a gaping hole in the vessel's deck, while the captain swung himself round as if bound to follow the motion of the crane and the cask of sugar, and then lowered himself imitatively by bending his back till the cask disappeared, when he started upright, banged the table with his fist, and exclaimed sharply: "I don't believe they're using a bit of dunnage, and if they don't the first storm they get those hogsheads'll be rempaging about in that hold, and if they don't mind that vessel'll sink, to the bottom of the sea, the sea. She'll sink to the bottom of the sea!" He half sang the latter words, with a merry look upon his face; but it did not sound like singing, for his voice was not musical, and he turned then to his young companion. "Know that song, squire?" he said. "No," said the lad, smiling in turn. "Is it a song?" "Yes, and a good one too. That's 'The Mermaid,' that is." "But we did not come here to breakfast and discuss old songs, captain," said the second personage. "That's a true word, sir; and we--Hullo! there you are again, are you? Anyone would think you wanted to know. See that chap, sir?" "Oh, yes, I've seen him several times; and he does seem as if he wanted to know something. He has been watching me about ever since my brother and I have been here." "So he has me, sir. He's one of those chaps who take a lot more interest in other persons' affairs than they do in their own, and if he comes poking his long thin sharp nose in my business he'll be getting himself into trouble." It was a long thin nose, and on either side was a very sharp black beady eye, which did not set off or improve a thin, wrinkled yellow face, as the owner sauntered by with a roughly-made cigar in his mouth, the smoking of which seemed to necessitate the sucking in of the smoker's cheeks, as he gazed eagerly at the seated party and went on. "He's a slave-driver; that's what he is, for a guinea," said the captain sourly. "So that's your brother, is it, sir?" "Yes, this is my brother," was the reply. "Thought he was. Be just like you when he's a dozen years older." "I doubt it, captain. You don't suppose I shall stand still during the next twelve years?" "No, of course not, sir." "But this is not business, captain." "No, sir, it isn't," said that individual angrily; "and if I'd known that I was going to be played such an unbusinesslike trick you wouldn't have caught me off Johnstown in my brig, I can tell you. I was as good as promised a full cargo of sugar back to Bristol, and I'm thrown overboard for the sake of saving a few dirty pounds by the agents here. But it ain't my business." "And my proposal is, captain?" "Well, I dunno, sir. You've come to me in a very pleasant, straightforward sort o' way to make me what sounds like a good offer. But, you see, we're strangers; I don't know you." "And I did not know you till yesterday, when I was making enquiries about a vessel." "That's right, sir. Well, you see, I'm a business man, and I always speak out straight what I mean." "Speak out then, captain." "Who may you be?" "There is my card," was the reply, and a slip was taken out of a pocket-book and pushed across the table, to be picked up by the captain, who read: "'Sir Humphrey Leigh, Pioneers' Club, Pall Mall.' Humph! Pall Mall's in London, isn't it, sir?" "Yes." "Then now I know your name, sir. But do you know anyone here, sir?" "The bankers will be my reference, and, what will suit you better, captain, credit your account with any sum you and I agree shall be paid to you for the use of your ship." "Yes, sir, that's all very straightforward and nice; but, you see, before I close with you there's the what for!" "What for?" "Yes, sir; I can't go blindfold into a bargain like this. I want to know who you are and what you want to do. In plain English, sir, what are you up to?" "You know who I am, Captain Banes, and you can satisfy yourself at the bankers' that I am in a position to pay you well and to make your voyage a far more lucrative one than carrying home a cargo of sugar would be." "That's right, sir; but I'm, so to speak, answerable for my brig and for the lives of my crew. Just have the goodness to tell me again what you want me to do." "Take on board an ample supply of stores for a year's cruise, and then sail with me to the mouth of the Amazon." "Yes, sir." "And up the river as far as you possibly can, and then anchor, and man a boat to go on up the river or rivers as far as we can go." "That's what you said yesterday, sir. But what for? What's the good of it?" "That's my business, captain; and here is your friend coming back wanting to make it his apparently," said Sir Humphrey, for the keen-looking yellow-faced man came sauntering back and approached the table so as to pass closer to them. _ |
||