A heavy raw fog hung about the ships anchored off Spithead on the morning appointed for Clare's punishment. Aurora seemed to have an inkling that man was about to do a very mean action; and not being able to prevent the outrage, endeavoured, woman-like, to veil it.
The officer of the watch was leaning upon the capstan on the quarter-deck of H. M. S. Stinger. He was wet, cold and miserable, and wished himself anywhere else. Lounging there, with the fog collecting in silvery drops upon his uniform, he wondered how his god-father and god-mother, after having among other impossible vows, promised that "he should renounce the devil and all his works," could have used their utmost endeavour to get him into the navy, where he was called upon to assist Zamiel in such fiend-like business as the one in which he was then engaged. Lieutenant Ford having lately belonged to a ship commanded by a man who could govern sailors without bombast, and threatening every slight offence with the punishment of the lash, the preparations for torturing a sailor under the pretence of administering justice, disgusted him. He knew full well that the carpenter's mates had quietly brought aft two capstan bars, and lashed them securely to the ship's side, just abaft the starboard gangway; he was aware they had fastened two gratings to these vertical bars, and perfectly conscious of the boatswain's yeoman having brought aft a bag containing a number of the whips called "cats," and the necessary canvas bands or seizings by which the prisoner was to be seized, or lashed to the gratings. Lieutenant Ford knew all this, but he never turned his eyes in that direction, or appeared to be aware of the proceedings.
At the appointed time he gave the necessary instructions to the boatswain, upon receipt of which, Mr. Shever walked to the main hatchway, and stooping down so that the sound might reach the cell where Clare was confined, blew a shrill blast upon his call, waited until the same was repeated by his mates between decks, then bellowed forth, with all the force of his powerful lungs, "Lash up hammocks, rouse out; rouse out, all of ye."
Slipping his call into his vest pocket, he darted down the hatchway, and running forward, worried the men out of their hammocks, administering a kick, curse, or blow, as his playful fancy or the defenceless positions of his victims dictated. Small boys were there who turned out of their warm beds into the raw air with a gulph, as if suddenly seized with ague chills. These white, shivering forms were fair marks for Shever, who, snatching a piece of line from the hand of one of his assistants, soon demonstrated to the unlucky urchins how skillfully he could manipulate a rope's end, their howls showing that every stroke had raised what he jocosely termed "a mark that would give 'em some trouble to rub out."
With the active assistance of the boatswain's mates there was soon an empty line of hammocks dangling between decks. The late occupants dressed, lashed up their nautical beds, took them on deck, and placed them in the nettings, after which some skulked in out-of-the way places and smoked; while others, who had been the recipients of the boatswain's gentle attentions, collected in groups about the foremost guns, andscowled at each other, as if anxious to be revenged upon some one. None of them prayed; indeed, very many of the Stingers looked upon prayer as an admiralty ordinance served out to them on Sundays along with the articles of war and other luxuries.
The kindly Shever and his assistants soon cleared between decks of all the sailors, and sentries were placed over each hatchway, to prevent the men going below again until punishment was over. None of the crew seemed inclined to go aft, but kept as far forward as possible.
A few of the men mentioned Clare's name, and expressed a wish "he might get off easily;" others, who under different circumstances would have still been in their hammocks, abused the prisoner in round terms, and "trusted the fool might get what he asked for." One gentleman, who had formerly been an eminent sneak-thief (but finding the land too warm, had betaken himself to the water), blessed the service collectively and individually, from the first lord of the admiralty to the last captured sailor, offering up a specially fervent appeal for the welfare of all the Stingers both now and hereafter. He continued in this strain until his remarks became personal to another gentlemen, whereupon the latter knocked him down and jumped upon him, after which he held his peace.
It may be gathered from these occurrences that Clare's shipmates did not exhibit much sympathy for him, the truth being, no one could tell when his own turn would arrive to taste the lash; and not looking forward to receiving much condolence themselves, they did not display any for the victim on this occasion. Some of the boys, thinking by the light manner in which the idea of flogging was treated by one or two of the crew, that it would be a capital joke to see a man tied up and tortured, were squabbling about places, one imp offering "sixpence and two plugs of tobacco to any cove who would shove him into a good place to see;" several of the men kept their eyes on that lad with a view to receiving this reward.
Crushe, resplendent with gold lace, cocked hat on head, his sword resting on his arm, was lounging about the quarter-deck in conversation with Cravan, and seeing Mr. Shever standing forward, sent for him. When that worthy came aft and touched his cap, Crushe walked over to the gratings, and asked him if he knew anything of his mate's capabilities in the flogging line. Shever replied that "one of them was a first-rate hand with the cats, and the other would do his duty;" and added, "I seed to them before I left between decks," by which he implied that the bottle of brandy sent to his cabin by the generous Crushe had been shared with these mates, who, like the boatswain, were now far from sober.
"Of courseyouknow how to do your duty, Shever?" observed the lieutenant in a patronizing tone. "No nervousness about you, eh?"
Shever looked at his interrogator, and replied in a somewhat injured manner, "Lieutenant Crushe, you trust me, I won't leave a bit of cheek in the feller. Wot with my cat and the raw air he'll be quiet enough before he gets his allowance."
Crushe smiled approvingly, and ordered the warrant officer "to send the hands aft."
The boatswain staggered forward; and putting his call to his mouth, the sharp vindictive notes, proper on the occasion, echoed through the ship, his assistants repeating the same in a more imperfect manner.
The sounds having died away, Shever, with hoarse voice and congested visage, roared out, "All ha-nds,—to punishment;" then with the assistance of his mates and the ship's corporal, he drove the crew aft to the port side of the quarter-deck, and reported "all aft" to Crushe.
Shortly after this, the officers came up from below, all being in full uniform: thesurgeon and his assistant, the paymaster and clerk, the lieutenants, mates, midshipmen and engineers, were all compelled to be present, although many of them were disgusted with the duty. As they came on deck the ship's boys thought "how beautiful the show was, and wondered what would come next." Notwithstanding the fog, Cravan had donned his best full dress, the prospect seeming to light up his visage with a glow of satisfaction. We must mention that the midshipmen, who had less gold lace upon their uniforms than the other officers, were in the greatest stew about their bullion being tarnished, their principal occupation being to discover which officer gave most shelter, and when found, to avail themselves of the same.
A body of those water soldiers known in H. M. navy as "Rile Marines" now slowly ascended the main hatchway, and fell into line before the crew, on the port side of the quarter-deck. In heavy marching order, and knapsack on shoulder, they manœuvred as nimbly as snails.
These military evolutions struck terror into the hearts of the second-class boys, who shut their eyes, and prepared for the worst.
Clare was escorted on deck by two marines, between whom he walked with a quiet, unassuming air: there was no sign of fear in his face, nor the slightest trace of braggadocio in his manner.
The captain now made his appearance, and was saluted by the officers and crew, the marines presenting arms, after being ordered to do so in a frantic manner by the sergeant.
Noticing that the ship's boys were completely hidden by the marines, Puffeigh, in order that the imposing ceremony might have due effect, directed that the lads should be ranged in front of the capstan before them, remarking, "they will be able fully to understand what flogging is like;" and truly they were placed in a position where none of the horrors would be missed by them.
"Strip!" cried the commander, as if directing the movements of a dog.
The prisoner removed his serge and flannel, and stood before his fellows a very model of a man. In spite of his fortitude, the cold air made him shiver. It was one of those piercing fogs which seem to absorb all the warmth from the body, and charge it in lieu with rheumatic pains; as if in very spite and wantonness it seized on Clare's muscular form, and tortured it into blueness in a few seconds.
"Seize him up!" continued the commander.
The ship's corporal advanced with two quarter-masters, and they were about to lay hands on Clare, but he, divining their intentions, without the slightest hesitation, walked to the grating, and held out his wrists. One of the quarter-masters took his right hand, and having passed a canvas seizing twice round it, fastened it to the capstan bar just above where the upper grating was lashed, his companion doing the same with the other wrist on the adjoining bar; after which they placed bands round his neck and loins, and lashed his knees to the lower grating, the man now being what sailors term "spread-eagled."
His flannel shirt was laid across his shoulders, and the men who had seized him up retired, upon which Captain Puffeigh proceeded to read the warrant for punishment. This was a formal document which, with many "now wherefores" and "now whereases," recapitulated the finding of the court-martial. A portion of the articles of war was also read, the crew standing bareheaded all the while.
At this moment the sentry reported, "Boat right alongside, sir."
"See who it is," bawled the commander.
"It's a woman as wants to see you, sir," shouted the sentry from the gangway, "and she's a coming up the gangway ladder, sir."
Upon this Puffeigh directed Cravan to tell her she could not come on board.
Cravan returned in a few moments, and with a grin upon his face, reported that "it was the prisoner's wife, who wished to speak with the captain."
"Is she in her boat?" demanded Puffeigh.
"Yes, sir! I promised if she would get off the ladder and let her watermen pull clear away from the side, that I'd tell you what she wanted," replied the officer.
"Tell her if her watermen come near the ship I will have a cold shot thrown into their boat, and that all her whining won't save her man, who will shortly get what she has helped him to."
Upon hearing this, the crew uttered a yell of disgust, one fierce roar, and then all was silent; hardened as some of them were, this was too much for them. Puffeigh was almost mad with rage, and he screamed, "Open your mouths like that once again, and I'll order the marines to fire amongst you, you mutinous hounds," and the marines looked as if they would like to carry out such a humane command.
When the gallant Cravan had reported "that the woman was gone," and added, for the edification of the prisoner, "that when he last saw her she was lying all of a heap in the stern of the boat," the captain called to the boatswain, and said, "Mr. Shever, do your duty," upon which the ship's corporal removed the shirt from Clare's back, and retired a few paces to the right.
Tom heard all that passed about his wife, but he "ate his heart," and showed no sign of his terrible torture.
Shever took a cat-o'-nine-tails' from under his jacket, walked to the left side of the prisoner, grasped the handle firmly in his right, and separated the cords with the fingers of his left hand; then with a rapid swish raised the weapon high above his head, and brought the cruel lashes savagely across the naked back of the helpless victim.
"One!" calls the ship's corporal.
"Two!"
"Three!" and now a number of blue lines crept across the man's back.
"Four!" They changed to red, beaded with the blood of the poor wretch, who trembled, yet bore the pain without uttering a word.
"Five!" "Six!" "Seven!" What is that staining the boatswain's fingers? Blood, my Christian friends!
"Eight!" "Nine!" "Ten!" More blood! Think of that, parents who give your sons to the service of their country!
"Eleven!" Blood, which no longer stains the cat alone, for specks fly off and dot the blanched faces of the terror-stricken lads who had been so fiendishly stationed near by the gallant commander.
"Twelve!" called the ship's corporal, who then advanced and offered the trembling victim some water, which he refused.
Price, the boatswain's mate, now took up his position in the place vacated by Mr. Shever, and at the words, "Boatswain's mate, do your duty," laid on the lash with savage, nervous energy.
"One!" "Two!" "Three!" "Four!" "Fire!" "Six!" The man's back showed a number of broad, blue lines, and two raw patches blushed upon his blade bones.
"Seven!" "Eight!" "Nine!" "Ten!" "Eleven!" "Twelve!" The brandy with which the savage had been plied was doing its devil's work, and he seemed desirous of adding a thirteenth blow, but was stopped by the commander.
At the last stroke Clare threw back his head, and gasped for water, which was immediately supplied him by the ship's corporal.
The boatswain resumed his position; and now fully warmed to his work, lashed away at the shuddering mass with great ferocity. 'Twas no longer blood alone that clung to the cats, but at every stroke he stripped off more solid cuttings from poor humanity. See how the thirty-sixth lash has calmed the poor wretch! There was little sign of insubordination in the man when the ship's corporal sprinkled his face and held the water to his lips after the boatswain had retired.
Another boatswain's mate stepped forward, and being somewhat inexperienced, is cautioned by the captain "not to miss his man." With an awkward sweep he brought his lash across the loins of the prisoner, who writhed in agony from this new torture, the protecting band having become displaced. But what cared the operator as long as the captain failed to notice it? and stroke followed stroke with clumsy rapidity.
"O God!" cried the poor victim, "flog lower," as at the "eleventh" blow the cat flew stinging round his head and across his eyes. At the "fourteenth" the prisoner threw back his head in agony, and became quite rigid.
When the last of the fifty lashes had been delivered, and properly told off by the ship's corporal, Tom Clare hung motionless from the grating, a sight so pitiful that many of the officers were visibly affected.
"Cast him off!" directed the commander.
In a few moments the prisoner was released and supported below, where the surgeon did his best to mitigate the man's sufferings.
Puffeigh turned to the crew and addressed them as follows "I have among you some more fellows like the man who has just received punishment. Now, mark my words, my fine fellows, if any of you give me the slightest trouble you will soon find yourselvesthere" (pointing towards the gratings). "Some of you have got the idea that you have rights, and ought to be treated like officers. Dismiss all such ideas of equality from your minds. You were never intended to be put on a level with your superiors. We're going on a foreign station, and I'll keep you in your places. Now, look you! respect your superior officers, do as you are ordered, and thank God that you are under a man who will give you four dozen as soon as look at you."
The effect of this speech upon the crew may be better imagined than described. The marines stared straight before them, and did not seem to be affected in any way, but the sailors looked askance, and whispered to each other, "Won't the ship be a heaven afloat arter this?"
"Pipe down," ordered the commander, as he watched the faces of the crew, in order to note the dissatisfied among them; "and," added he, "Mr. Crushe, you may have them piped to breakfast."
When Clare had somewhat recovered he was ordered up to the quarter-deck, and placed aft under the charge of a sentry until sunset, when the ship's corporal informed him he was free.
Doubtless, justice was satisfied.
Puffeigh went on shore, and boasted that he had conquered his men.
Crushe hugged himself to think how well he had kept his word.
Cravan, not knowing any better, imagined he was revenged.
And the devil was delighted with the whole business.
The day after Clare's punishment the matter was almost forgotten in the hurry incident to preparation for sea. By 5P.M.the ship was perfectly ready, and every one at his post, in immediate anticipation of getting under weigh, when the signal midshipman announced, "Our pennant's flying, sir." Up went the rolls of bunting, threading their way aloft until they reached the mast-heads of the flag-ship, when they broke and unfolded themselves to the breeze. Their purport being ascertained, Captain Puffeigh was informed that the Stinger was to remain at anchor until sunrise the next morning. Upon receiving this order the commander directed "the engine-room fires to be banked, and the crew piped to dance and skylark;" thus giving the officers and men an opportunity of writing farewells to their friends.
Captain Puffeigh retired to his cabin, called for a supply of pens, ink, paper, and old crusted port, and proceeded to torture himself into letter-writing condition. In a short time he worked his ideas up to literary red-heat, and produced the following extraordinary effusion, during the manufacture of which he had blessed the paper, execrated his spectacles, and, in fact, blamed everything, but his own dull brains. Mrs. Puffeigh being young and pretty, we fear did not see much to admire in her husband, and was not at all sorry to be once more free from his oriental attentions.
"H. M. S. Stinger, off Spithead,"16 November, ——."Robby's own Pet,"I am sorry I cannot come on shore to say one more good-bye to my Tooty. I know that horrid Captain Dasher will be with you at the pic-nic about this time; but my pet will keep him at a distance. Don't give the dog too much meat, and discharge that saucy maid of yours, find out if you can to what ship her fellow belongs, his name is James Green."I almost cry when I think how lonely you must be, poor Tooty, keep up your spirits. Tell the gardener to discharge his boys, and send all the peaches to the fruiterers. Keep the cellar key yourself, and if my brother visits you, give him bin three, port, it is good enough for a curate. How will my pet get on without me. Keep up your music, and don't paint your dear little face, don't you remember how people laughed at me at the archery meeting, when I wiped Tooty's face and the stuff came off."Pretend to be gay, and show the envious ones that you are happy—don't waltz, darling pet. Doctor Muddle says,it's the very worst exercise you can take, slow dances arenot so bad. I hope you will visit your relations as much as possible,particularly those who do not wish you to invite them in return."I have a pair of your dear little bootikins, which stand in my cabin, I look at them with tears in my eyes."Put the servants on board wages when you are absent."With a billion kisses from your own doting"Robert Puffeigh."
"H. M. S. Stinger, off Spithead,"16 November, ——.
"Robby's own Pet,
"I am sorry I cannot come on shore to say one more good-bye to my Tooty. I know that horrid Captain Dasher will be with you at the pic-nic about this time; but my pet will keep him at a distance. Don't give the dog too much meat, and discharge that saucy maid of yours, find out if you can to what ship her fellow belongs, his name is James Green.
"I almost cry when I think how lonely you must be, poor Tooty, keep up your spirits. Tell the gardener to discharge his boys, and send all the peaches to the fruiterers. Keep the cellar key yourself, and if my brother visits you, give him bin three, port, it is good enough for a curate. How will my pet get on without me. Keep up your music, and don't paint your dear little face, don't you remember how people laughed at me at the archery meeting, when I wiped Tooty's face and the stuff came off.
"Pretend to be gay, and show the envious ones that you are happy—don't waltz, darling pet. Doctor Muddle says,it's the very worst exercise you can take, slow dances arenot so bad. I hope you will visit your relations as much as possible,particularly those who do not wish you to invite them in return.
"I have a pair of your dear little bootikins, which stand in my cabin, I look at them with tears in my eyes.
"Put the servants on board wages when you are absent.
"With a billion kisses from your own doting
"Robert Puffeigh."
Tooty screamed with delight when she read this letter, but followed her own inclinations in spite of its warnings.
The lieutenants and other commissioned officers were in their respective cabins, emulating their captain's example in letter-writing. Crushe scrawled two epistles which ran as follows:—
"Stinger, at Spithead,"16 November."My Beloved Aunt,"Providence has ordained that I shall be chastened by being separated from those I love. I kiss the rod, and submit with resignation."You will be happy to hear, my dear aunt, that I am in a ship where the voice is raised in supplication, and where we can meet, when we choose, for mutual improvement. One of our officers, named Cravan, is seriously seeking, and I trust will become a shining light. I gave your beautiful tracts to our boatswain, a most worthy young inquirer, who, I doubt not, will make good use of them. He remarked, "if he had ten times as many they would be acceptable," which gratified me exceedingly. We were obliged to flog that wretched man, Clare, yesterday. I did all I could for him, but he was hardened, and refused a tract offered him by the boatswain. I enclose my mite towards the Reverend Mr. Bulpurp's chapel, give it him, with my humble prayers for the cause."My poor wife still refuses to join our blessed band, and therefore will not visit you. I am much concerned about her hereafter. She refused to read that excellent book you gave me for her special perusal. You may remember it was called "Beauty a Sin;" pray for her, dear aunt, and for your unworthy nephew,"Howard Crushe."
"Stinger, at Spithead,"16 November.
"My Beloved Aunt,
"Providence has ordained that I shall be chastened by being separated from those I love. I kiss the rod, and submit with resignation.
"You will be happy to hear, my dear aunt, that I am in a ship where the voice is raised in supplication, and where we can meet, when we choose, for mutual improvement. One of our officers, named Cravan, is seriously seeking, and I trust will become a shining light. I gave your beautiful tracts to our boatswain, a most worthy young inquirer, who, I doubt not, will make good use of them. He remarked, "if he had ten times as many they would be acceptable," which gratified me exceedingly. We were obliged to flog that wretched man, Clare, yesterday. I did all I could for him, but he was hardened, and refused a tract offered him by the boatswain. I enclose my mite towards the Reverend Mr. Bulpurp's chapel, give it him, with my humble prayers for the cause.
"My poor wife still refuses to join our blessed band, and therefore will not visit you. I am much concerned about her hereafter. She refused to read that excellent book you gave me for her special perusal. You may remember it was called "Beauty a Sin;" pray for her, dear aunt, and for your unworthy nephew,
"Howard Crushe."
(No date.)"Dear Mary,"Another of your weak compositions has reached me; how foolish you are to waste your time in endeavouring to make me believe you care for me. I have no money to send you. Ask yourdotingfather for some. So you still refuse to visit my aunt, and assist me to secure her money."Very good; until you do this I shall not answer another of your letters."Your afft. husband,"Howard Crushe."
(No date.)
"Dear Mary,
"Another of your weak compositions has reached me; how foolish you are to waste your time in endeavouring to make me believe you care for me. I have no money to send you. Ask yourdotingfather for some. So you still refuse to visit my aunt, and assist me to secure her money.
"Very good; until you do this I shall not answer another of your letters.
"Your afft. husband,"Howard Crushe."
When Crushe's aunt perused her letter she wiped her eyes, declared "he was too good a husband for such a wife," and sitting down wrote an order for one hundred pounds, which she forwarded to his agents, with directions to place the same to her nephew's account.
His wife read hers with a sad heart, and when she had received its last keen stab, cried bitterly, and wished the grave might soon be her resting-place.
The manly fellow who wrote them anticipated these results.
LIEUTENANT FORD TO MISS ——.
"Dearest Florence,"I have but a few seconds in which to scratch farewell. Your letter of yesterday reached me. I did not know that Clare's wife had been your maid. Tell her I will get him into my watch, and do all I can for him,for your dear sake. Hebore his punishment nobly, and even his enemies must have admired his courage. Cravan (you know, the man who made himself so ridiculous at the archery meeting) is in our ship. I never speak to him except on duty. Your sweet miniature shall never be parted from me until I claim you as my wife."I told Clare that you knew his wife, and had interested yourself about him, and he seemed thoroughly to appreciate your good action."With love to Kate and Reg. and Chin-chin to Mamma and Papa, believe me to be ever your devotedly attached"Ernest."H. M. S. 'Stinger,' Spithead, 16th November."
"Dearest Florence,
"I have but a few seconds in which to scratch farewell. Your letter of yesterday reached me. I did not know that Clare's wife had been your maid. Tell her I will get him into my watch, and do all I can for him,for your dear sake. Hebore his punishment nobly, and even his enemies must have admired his courage. Cravan (you know, the man who made himself so ridiculous at the archery meeting) is in our ship. I never speak to him except on duty. Your sweet miniature shall never be parted from me until I claim you as my wife.
"I told Clare that you knew his wife, and had interested yourself about him, and he seemed thoroughly to appreciate your good action.
"With love to Kate and Reg. and Chin-chin to Mamma and Papa, believe me to be ever your devotedly attached
"Ernest.
"H. M. S. 'Stinger,' Spithead, 16th November."
The gun-room was a scene of the most lively disorder. Most of the lads were leaving home for the first time, and consequently had a great deal to communicate to their friends, yet every now and then they would cease writing, and turn their attention to squabbling with their neighbours about desk room.
The questions of boundary lines and elbow rights being settled, these combative bantams would challenge each other "to cut for glasses round." The article divided for was by them facetiously termed "stout;" a cask of this cholera-mixture being on tap under the mess-table. Affixed to the bulk-head was a notice, running as follows:—
"In future, any officer ordering stout, must attend to the following: When the steward stoops under the table, he must whistle, and continue at this exercise until his head is again upon a level with the mess-table. In default of which, boots and other blunt weapons may be used."(Signed)Palgrave Brown,"Caterer."
"In future, any officer ordering stout, must attend to the following: When the steward stoops under the table, he must whistle, and continue at this exercise until his head is again upon a level with the mess-table. In default of which, boots and other blunt weapons may be used.
"(Signed)Palgrave Brown,"Caterer."
This stringent regulation was the result of a tendency on the part of their steward to remain unnecessarily long under the table, when ordered to draw the delectable beverage for his superiors.
The said steward was a hang-dog looking object, who had bolted from servitude under a parish undertaker, and sought peace on board a man-of-war, yet found it not, having exchanged one weak tyrant for several bullying, inconsistent, savage little Neros. Some of the youngsters, taking their cue from Crushe, seemed to think the only way they could show their authority was by domineering over the wretched servant; and in spite of Ryan and other gentlemen, would vent their spleen upon the poor fellow, treating him as if he were destitute of feelings.
Between decks forward the crew took leave of their friends according to their various temperaments; some yawned, and told of faithful and faithless loves, vowing one good-bye was enough for most women, while they never would cease to remember others with whom they had consorted. A few stretched themselves out on the bags in the rack forward, and dropped off into a broken sleep, from which they would start with a wondering air, observing to those around them that they "was werry near off that time."
Seated near the cook's galley was a careworn-looking sailor, cheek on hand, evidently so deeply buried in thought as to be quite unconscious of the babel around him. He was thinking of the past, when, in spite of mother's prayers and father's warning, he determined to leave his home and enter the navy. Bitterly he regretted the unspoken compliance which rose to his lips, when his mother begged him "not to go to sea, but stay to comfort her in her old age," and, angered by the silence of his father, he steeled his heart against them, and the words, "Father, I'm wrong; forgive me," were never uttered.
He remembered how, when leaving their cottage, he heard the old man angrily refuse to call him back, saying, "He don't mean it, and will be home again in a few days." He nearly faltered then, but dreaded the kindly laugh which would follow if he returned. Brave heart to face the lash and degradation, rather than submit to the will of one who loved him, although he was a little harsh at times.
He left them in anger, and never afterwards communicated his whereabouts, or sent them a word of comfort; but he was never out oftheirthoughts, and their last years were racked with torturing anxiety on his account. After a long absence, he returned to England, and bent his steps towards his native village, thinking with the gold he had earned to cheer his aged parents, and heal their bruised hearts—wondering, as he passed along the streets, why the people stared so; mistaking children for their parents, and taking young men for old, in his eager desire to be recognized by some one. The very ale-house sign was cold in its appearance, and swung lazily on its hinges, as if to wave him off. "I don't know you," said the children. "I don't know you," echoed the trees—and the whole place seemed to enter a protest against his re-appearance among them. "Well, never mind! mother will know me," he thought; "and father will be glad to see me, I dare say;" and he turned down the lane in which stood his home. An old woman was in the porch. He shouted to her, "Mammy, here's Joe," upon which she tottered in and closed the door.
"What!" he bawled, "up to your old tricks, mammy, hiding again? Come, let me in. I'm real glad to see you." As he said this, he reached the threshold and rapped playfully, to hasten her re-appearance.
As no answer was given, he lifted the latch and walked into the house, where he was confronted by the woman, who ordered him to "begone and not worrit her." He gazed on the old crone in speechless amazement, until she again urged him to depart, upon which he mumbled something about "hernot being his mother."
The woman, finding he was much affected, tendered him a seat, and he soon learned that his father was sleeping calmly by the side of his faithful spouse, in the village churchyard. He got up and walked to that place like one in a dream. When he stood by their neglected graves the choke rose in his throat, and bitterly he repented the sad consequences of his rash step.
The old sexton seeing some one at the graves, thought possibly he might be a relation of those buried there; so he hobbled to his side, and with parrot-like volubility told him, "there lies two good old folks, who died broken-hearted because their boy left them to go to sea, and was never again heard of;" and the sailor felt his utter loneliness, that he was an outcast, a very dog, with no one in the world to love or care for him.
These thoughts came crowding into his brain, and he writhed under the magic of their influence. However, after a time they left him, when he arose, and preluding the transformation with an oath, became once more a rough, callous fellow, "a daring, reckless sailor."
A knot of ordinary seamen and boys were collected around one old tar, who was evidently "a man of mark among them." This ancient mariner did not impart choice moral instructions to his audience; far from it, he was what they called "yarning," and his reminiscences savoured of back slums and low dens, but were not on that account less interesting to those about him. When he laughed they followed suit, and woe betide the man who dared contradict "Old Jemmy," or for one moment doubt the veracity of his "tough ones;" while instant squashment would be the doom of any boy who did not laugh louder or believe more implicitly than the men. Offerings ofgrog and tobacco were made by his obsequious admirers, and he was in that condition graphically described by sailors as "werry tight."
"Does any o' you remember Limpin Lew?" demanded this old man, adding parenthetically, "I suppose none ofyouever knowedher, though."
"I knowed her rayther!" squeaked a small boy, who was standing on a shot rack, so as to get a full view of the old Tycoon's face.
"Did you?" mumbled the ancient mariner. "I should like to know how the likes ofyoubecame ack-vainted with sich an elegant field-male?" saying which this oracle placed a plug of tobacco between his toothless jaws, and looked round until he spied out the small boy, who, being thus challenged, retorted—
"Vy shouldn't I know her, vhen she drinked herself to death at my fauther's?"
"Yourfather's! who'syourfather?" growled the patriarch.
"Bill Jordun, wot keeps the Blue Postes at Portsea—he's as good a man as you, anyhow."
Much to the astonishment of the spectators, the daring child was not slain, or maimed for life; but with a look of the most profound admiration, the hoary sinner drew forth his tobacco box, which he tendered, to the lad, requesting him to "help hisself," remarking as he did so, "Wot! the kid of my old chum Bill? Lord love you, sit down along side of me, vy, I've been as tight as an owl at your old man's many's the time. I'll be as good as a father to you, my boy; see if I don't."
The ancient mariner religiously kept his word—with a rope's end—and the lad repeatedly had occasion to "anything but bless" the memory of "that elegant field-male Limpin Lew."
A few of the men were seated at their mess-tables, scrawling off their epistolary farewells. Tom Clare was one of these—crippled as he was, he managed to write to his wife.
H. M. S. Stinger,Nov. 16, ——"Dear Polly,"We leave in a few hours for a foreign station, it is now all past, and I am wot they cal a free man once again. Tell her, the angell as you knows,—I menshun no name for fear of accident,—that I thank her for her kindness to you. I wait patient until I see you again. Love to Mother and Father. I have you always in my hart until death do us part, God bless my wife."From Thomas Clare, A. B., to Mrs. Clare, care of Mrs. Morks, 41, John Street, Portsmouth, or if not there, to Mrs. Clare, Kingsdown, near Deal, Kent."Write soon, she will tell you were too,"Tom Clare."
H. M. S. Stinger,Nov. 16, ——
"Dear Polly,
"We leave in a few hours for a foreign station, it is now all past, and I am wot they cal a free man once again. Tell her, the angell as you knows,—I menshun no name for fear of accident,—that I thank her for her kindness to you. I wait patient until I see you again. Love to Mother and Father. I have you always in my hart until death do us part, God bless my wife.
"From Thomas Clare, A. B., to Mrs. Clare, care of Mrs. Morks, 41, John Street, Portsmouth, or if not there, to Mrs. Clare, Kingsdown, near Deal, Kent.
"Write soon, she will tell you were too,
"Tom Clare."
Mr. Thompson not only wrote to Mary Ann, but also in consideration of sundry glasses of grog, acted as amanuensis to several of his shipmates. The letter to his intended running thus:—
Pentonwille, afloat off Spithead."Dear Miss Mary Ann Ross, Perfection in Wimen,"This comes opin to find you well as leafs me at present with a full intenshun to bolt as soon as i gets harf a chans."I am sorry to ad your brother in lawer is a brute, i knowed he were a mene kus but i did not think 'im wishous, being a perfec tyerant."He gave us a trete a flakin pore T. Clare, i was horri-fied and his pore wife afaintin over the ship's side, and the skipper as hard as a stone, which i hope she will bolt with some good looking feller and drive him into a lunatic a-sylum. T. Clare behaved like a bric—but enuf of those melancholy subjex which I dismiss with love to Mrs. Shever and wishin her a better husband that i feels as if i would like to punch his edd."P. S. Give my love to your cousin Amelia, alsow to that red-ed-ded gal the cook next door, if so be you don't objex, she avin a bligh of my sister Fanne in Australia."P. S. Remember me, Horatio, to the sarjunt, but don't allow no other soljar nere your lips, dere Mary Ann."P. S. P. S. Minde you keep clear of that young Carpenter who is after no goode."P. S. If this should meat the high of the cook, give her my love, also a kiss if you don't objex."P. S. S. S. S. S. We are going to the Cape of Good ope tomorro before breakfast, so dri your tears, dispell your fears, for true you'll always find me i must and will return again to the girl i left behind me."Jerry Thompson, A. B. on board H. M. Ship Stinger. Seamen's Letter bag."
Pentonwille, afloat off Spithead.
"Dear Miss Mary Ann Ross, Perfection in Wimen,
"This comes opin to find you well as leafs me at present with a full intenshun to bolt as soon as i gets harf a chans.
"I am sorry to ad your brother in lawer is a brute, i knowed he were a mene kus but i did not think 'im wishous, being a perfec tyerant.
"He gave us a trete a flakin pore T. Clare, i was horri-fied and his pore wife afaintin over the ship's side, and the skipper as hard as a stone, which i hope she will bolt with some good looking feller and drive him into a lunatic a-sylum. T. Clare behaved like a bric—but enuf of those melancholy subjex which I dismiss with love to Mrs. Shever and wishin her a better husband that i feels as if i would like to punch his edd.
"P. S. Give my love to your cousin Amelia, alsow to that red-ed-ded gal the cook next door, if so be you don't objex, she avin a bligh of my sister Fanne in Australia.
"P. S. Remember me, Horatio, to the sarjunt, but don't allow no other soljar nere your lips, dere Mary Ann.
"P. S. P. S. Minde you keep clear of that young Carpenter who is after no goode.
"P. S. If this should meat the high of the cook, give her my love, also a kiss if you don't objex.
"P. S. S. S. S. S. We are going to the Cape of Good ope tomorro before breakfast, so dri your tears, dispell your fears, for true you'll always find me i must and will return again to the girl i left behind me.
"Jerry Thompson, A. B. on board H. M. Ship Stinger. Seamen's Letter bag."
Mr. Price, the boatswain's mate, not being able to write to his good lady himself, had captured a bull-headed boy and under threat of dire torment compelled him to write to his dictation. The lad was directed to "chalk down" every word his persecutor uttered, and he followed his instructions with Chinese exactness.
Every now and then the bull-headed one would thrust out his tongue, square his elbows and settle close to the paper, until there seemed every probability of his resting his cheek upon the letter and indulging in a short slumber. When Price saw the closely-cropped poll inclining paperwards, he would, seize his victim by the scruff of the neck with his left hand, while his right would be operating upon the person of the secretary with a motion which rapidly took the kink out of his vertebra, and made him sit as upright as a soldier: "If you goes a kissin of the paper again I'll rope's end you!" said Price, after having jerked his clerk into position for the tenth time.
This is the result of Price's system.
"16 Nov.—Mind your i am going to write a few lines hold up your head you d—ear Eliza we are going to leave for a furrin, isn't so I say it is, furrin station to-morrow. Now then keep up my half pay note is given to the paymaster you infernal little f—ond line. All my clothes was right but a nod sock right on the paper none of your lip and the ditty box lid was broke you young warmint. I'll give you something to wake you up in love to Meryar hold your jaw also my respects to Mister Mags wot keeps the Red Lion.—keep up and be—also to all inquirin friends lay down again and I'll give you this rope's end which you knows. We flaked Ths. Clare and I hurt my wrist a so doing and will give you just the same if you don't mind your high. If you can write me W. Price boatswains mate starboard watch H. M. S. Stinger Cape of Good ope or elsewear to be forwarded if left till called for, lord bless you all I'll cut you in halves if you go a kissin agin like that, your lovely husband,Bill Price."
"16 Nov.—Mind your i am going to write a few lines hold up your head you d—ear Eliza we are going to leave for a furrin, isn't so I say it is, furrin station to-morrow. Now then keep up my half pay note is given to the paymaster you infernal little f—ond line. All my clothes was right but a nod sock right on the paper none of your lip and the ditty box lid was broke you young warmint. I'll give you something to wake you up in love to Meryar hold your jaw also my respects to Mister Mags wot keeps the Red Lion.—keep up and be—also to all inquirin friends lay down again and I'll give you this rope's end which you knows. We flaked Ths. Clare and I hurt my wrist a so doing and will give you just the same if you don't mind your high. If you can write me W. Price boatswains mate starboard watch H. M. S. Stinger Cape of Good ope or elsewear to be forwarded if left till called for, lord bless you all I'll cut you in halves if you go a kissin agin like that, your lovely husband,Bill Price."
(Mrs. Price was somewhat puzzled with the foregoing, but finding the half-pay came in regularly, she consoled herself with that, and telling her neighbours "that her Bill was off his chump.")
On the morning of the 17th November the Stinger got under weigh, and after saluting the flag of Admiral * * *, steamed slowly down the British Channel.
The last link of the chain, supposed to bind folks to their native land, having been severed the Stingers turned their faces towards the future, and their more immediate attention to matters connected with securing boats and anchors.
The screw continued its music, and rattled away at a tune which lasted, with intervals, until the ship returned to England. It was an auxilliary screw—a noisy, bumptious, mad little article—going off with a bang, as if desirous of giving every one a headache; after which it would undergo a paroxysm, and worry at a great rate—at first free and strong, then gradually quieting down to a dead strain, like a blind man's dog when held in by its owner. Thus people who did not know the secret of its weakness would imagine it a very powerful, hard-working auxiliary.
Sometimes it stopped dead, or jingled like a tambourine, when Mr. Sniff, the chief engineer, gravely doctored it with pantomime property forceps, which operation would somewhat relieve it, and start it clattering on its way again. When the wind freshened it would drag after the ship in a lazy, sulky manner, leaving a curve of bubbles to mingle in her wake as if in silent protest against the superior force of its rival. But let the breeze fall light, with a sudden kick it would throw off the water, rattle, and rush; and when thus excited, had been known to propel the Stinger at the dizzy rate of six knots an hour.
After they were out two days the commander opened his despatches, and informed his officers that "they were bound for the Cape of Good Hope," which they already knew, although not officially.
"Going to the Cape of Good Hope! hurrah!" cried Jerry Thompson, who had not scrupled to listen to the communication made by Puffeigh to the first lieutenant. "Going to the Cape, my boys; hurrah for fat-tailed sheep and Cape smoke!" It seems Thompson had been there before.
Clare was placed in Lieutenant Ford's watch. He went about his work in a quiet, unassuming manner, and became a prime favourite of that officer. No one interfered with him, and he would never trouble his shipmates except on matters of duty.
Captain Puffeigh took a great fancy to Thompson; and one day called him, and questioned him as to his antecedents. "Have you not sailed with me somewhere, my man?" demanded the commander. "It's my brother you know, sir," replied the scamp. "We're so werry much alike, that our mother don't know us." This remark partly satisfied Puffeigh, who thereupon rated Jerry to be his coxswain. "I know I've seen you somewhere, though," he repeated. "My eyesight isn't first-rate, but I seem to remember your features."
It was probably a very good thing for the coxswain that Puffeigh's vision was imperfect.
The Stinger made the best of her way Capewards, and Crushe relieved the dullness of the passage by experimenting on the endurance of the crew. Five times the gratings were rigged, and the disgraceful farce of justice enacted, five men broken into obedience, or rendered worse demons than before.
The ship, however, in due time arrived in Simon's Bay, and proceeded to refit. The first order given being "no leave allowed to any one while we are in this place."
Commander Puffeigh accepted the hospitality of one of the merchant houses, and took Jerry on shore to act as his valet. While there an adventure befell them, which we will narrate in the next chapter.
Being appointed captain's coxswain and valet suited Thompson to a nicety, and it was amusing to see how he adapted himself to his new position, as from a merry wag he suddenly quieted down into a solemn-looking fellow. We hardly need say this was all assumption on his part, but "quiet dignity tinged with a slight shade of melancholy" he considered the correct sort of thing for therole, and no one who saw him recognized the gay and festive youth of old times.
"Promotion's ruined Thompson," said the boatswain to Price. "He ain't hisself. I shouldn't wonder if he goes into a consumption."
"I wish he would," feelingly replied the boatswain's mate, "provided the captain would givemea chance to ketch the complaint arter him."
Commander Puffeigh had shipped as his steward a young and aspiring cockney, who entered the service with the full determination of becoming an admiral, but finding his chances in that particular direction rather few, gave up the idea, and devoted his attention to the acquirement of grand words. The doctor was his great fountain-head; and when that gentleman dined with the captain, Mr. Boyldwyte would be on the alert, and listen to every word which fell from the medico's lips.
The appointment of Jerry in a double capacity annoyed the steward. He did not mind the sailor attending to his master when on board ship, but to be taken on shore, and regularly installed as captain's valet, was rather too much of a good thing. Whenever, therefore, the grave face of Mr. Thompson appeared at his pantry door, the steward forthwith would stand on the offensive. The sailor knew this, and aggravated his opponent accordingly.
The ship had been anchored in Simon's Bay about twenty-four hours, and Puffeigh was comfortably quartered on shore, before the coxswain made his appearance on board again. After delivering letters and messages to the first lieutenant, he proceeded to the steward's pantry, where he found Mr. Boyldwyte deep in the mystery of plate cleaning, and evidently not in the very best temper.
"Good morning, Mister Biled-up," whispered the sailor.
The steward took up a spoon and leathered away as if quite unconscious of the coxswain's presence.
"Mr. Biled right! I begs your pardon," insinuated the mischievous Jerry. "I'm come from the captain with orders, Mr. B."
"Cuss your Mr. B., you infernal collyoptera!" retorted the now thoroughly-roused flunkey. "My name is Boyldwyte! Yes, sir, Boyld—wyte. I want none of your cheek! Speak to me on duty, sir! Yes, sir!—on duty. I don't belong to your class of society." Having thus delivered himself, he stared hard at Thompson, and breathed defiantly, as much as to say, "I'm ready for you,—come on."
The coxswain-valet smiled, unhooked the half-door, walked into the pantry, and took a seat beside the ferocious one, who immediately turned his back upon him. When his anger had evaporated the steward demanded what the sailor required, and added, "Why didn't you tell me when you come in?"
"My dear Mister B., wot with your colly-wotshisnames and other blowings up, Ihaven't had a chance of getting a word in edgeways. Please don't use such teatotal long words; I ain't got a pocket jaxionaiary with me, you know."
"Did the captain give you any instructions for my guidance, Mr. Thompson?"
"Yes, Mr. B."
"What was they, Mr. Thompson?"
"Well, he says to me, says he, 'Jerry, that infernal fool of mine—meaning you—ain't worth him salt, ses he, and for two pins I'd sack him and take you in his place.'"
"The captain made use ofthatobservation, did he, Mr. Thompson?"
"He did, Mister B."
"He were not speaking anamgretically, were he, Mr. Thompson?"
"I dont know what you means by adamgratcolly. Is it one of your French ragouts, Mister B.?"
"No, it ain't; I forgot I was talking to a man of no education," replied the steward. "We'd better drop the subject."
"Come, don't be put out, old man; I was only joking—the fact was—now this is truth. The captain says, 'give my regards to Broiled-tight—beg your pardon, Mister Boyldwyte,—and tell him to give you all the little extras we require.'"
"We! who'swe, Mr. Thompson?"
Jerry did not notice him, but went on. "We have lots of shirts and other linen, but we want more private brandy and some solder water, as ours is all out."
"Mister Thompson, I won't stand by and hear the likes of you, a person in your position in society, say we in eproximation with the name of our noble commander. I wont stand it, sir."
"Then," replied the sailor, "sit down to it, my pretty fellow, and hold your helloquence, or I'll call myself Co., there now."
This was a finisher for Mr. Boyldwyte, who thereupon procured the stores, and got rid of his tormentor. When the latter received the packages he asked if "there was anything in the message line for the captain."
The steward did not condescend to reply, so Thompson helped him to a parting shot.
"I say, Mr. B., can't you chuck in one of them long words of yours? One on 'em would be enough to give all the fellers ashore the colic," saying which his face resumed its melancholy cast; and waving a farewell to his victim, he went on shore.
There was more meaning in the wordwethan Thompson cared to explain, as during the day time he fortified himself with sundry nips of the captain's private brandy, and after dismissal in the evening would array himself in his master's plain clothes, in which he called upon his acquaintances; so the terms We and Co. were correctly used by him when speaking to the steward.
The domestics of the shore establishment in which they were located were coloured persons, the only exception being the housekeeper, an old Irish woman named Maggy, who, although a great admirer of Thompson, was much too aged a party for him to think of. However, in twenty-four hours he had made the acquaintance of every good-looking girl in the place, and in eight-and-forty was head-over-heels in love with a saffron-headed damsel of the heavy Teutonic order of architecture, by name Wallburg Pferdscreptern.
This young lady was the only child of a sturdy German, who dealt in flour, axes, pork, dumb-bells, cheese, ales, coffins, wine, fresh beef, hides, soft-bread, fat-tailed sheep, and other luxuries required by the men-of-war frequenting the place, and as labour was considered honourable in Simon's Bay, the fraulein attended to the sale department of her papa's store.
Wallburg's beauty was without a crease. Her very dimples had long ago givenout, like the seat of a spring chair when the tyings snap; she was one harmonious whole, and nobody for a moment imagined she would ever fall in love. Great was the excitement in the Bay when her mother announced, "tas fraulein Wallburg vas in lofs mit ter matrose Scherry."
Thus it came about: Puffeigh, who possessed most of old Falstaff's weaknesses, had, on the day of his arrival, spied out the lovely fraulein, and marked her as his own. Quite taken in with his coxswain's quiet manner, he ordered him to carry a note down to her. Jerry did so—went, saw, and fell in love right away. The young lady soon explained matters in her most choice English, and they determined to take advantage of the old man's foolishness, and have a good time generally. It was love at first sight on the part of the maiden,—she had never been smitten before; but Cupid had fixed her this time, and in spite of "vater or mutter," she declared she would have her way or perish.
Four or five times a day was the coxswain sent to the German's store, where he delivered the billet-doux of the amorous Puffeigh. When he had read those charming epistles to the mädchen, he would write a suitable reply, and take it back to the delighted old fellow, his master.
"Was she pleased to get my letter?" demanded Puffeigh on one occasion; "did she look delighted?"
"Yes, sir. Ses she, 'Yaw, yaw, tell dem alten narren I loaf him very much.'"
"What's alten narren, my man?"
"It means splendid gentleman, sir, in English."
"You're picking up German very fast."
"Yes, sir; it's a picking me up, sir. I'm learning fast, sir; so as to be useful toyou, sir."
This quite satisfied Puffeigh, who began to look upon his new coxswain as a treasure, and a very model of circumspection and perfection in his line.
Jerry, on his part, would invent the most astonishing yarns to get sent down to the store. Sometimes it was, "her father was in the last time, and he could not get a chance to speak to her;" at others "her mother was there."
"What is her mother like?" demanded Puffeigh.
"She's more fatter and bigger than the young lady," replied Thompson. The captain did not ask further questions.
The coxswain's courtship was conducted upon peculiar principles. He knew the fraulein disliked to exert herself, so, upon entering the little parlour at the back of the store where he usually found her calmly reclining in a rocking-chair, he would at once proceed to kiss her in a most vigorous manner. She, not at all disliking his attention, gazed upon him with a calmly-tickled air; and when he was tired would playfully slap him on the face, and declare he "vos ein goot veller."
After a pause, he proceeded again to salute her, showering the kisses with sounding smack upon her wax-like features, when a smile would extend over her visage like a ripple of air on a pan of oil, and she would ejaculate, "Scherry, mein hubscher matrose, runs avay vrom der schips und marrys me," to which Jerry would reply with another consignment of kisses,—"Yaw, yaw, Wall-ker;" from this the fraulein imagined he would desert, and marry her when the ship was gone. "I loves you vorse den nopodys else, Scherry," gurgled his fair seducer. This was the signal for more kisses, and a fervent avowal of affection on the part of the coxswain.
One morning Captain Puffeigh informed his valet, in great confidence that "their destination on leaving the Cape would be the East Indies:" so during the day Jerrybroke the news to his enslaver, and declared it would be madness for him to attempt to run away.
The information was a tremendous blow to Miss Wallburg, who replied, "I veels so pad at ter news, that I almost bust with deers." This catastrophe was averted by a scientific application of kisses on the part of her lover.
Miss Pferdscreptern was very desirous of knowing all about India,—how far off it was, &c., &c., the following conversation taking place upon the subject:
"India crate vays vrom here, Scherry?"
"Werry long way, Wallbug."
"Plack mans, Caffres, dere too, Scherry?"
Thompson was quite posted, so he replied, "Well, they're coppery like, Wallbug—coppery like, my gal."
"How don't dey know much dere, scherry?"
"Well, Wallbug, you see, being uncivilized, they're savage; and being savage, they sometimes kills and eats each other." Jerry began to suspect she wanted to follow him, so he invented this to frighten her.
"Does dey have no rights to do dat?" gasped the fraulein, who was immensely interested with the replies of her Othello. "Does dey have no rights to do noting vot dey never does?"
This was rather a puzzler for the sailor, who replied, "You see as how it's somemat like flogging; they hasn't no right to do it always as they does, but they do it nevertheless." After delivering this opinion Jerry refreshed himself with a few kisses of a choice and deliberate kind.
When she had recovered from the effects of the attack, the mädchen sadly observed, "Ach, Scherry, dere's beeples all over der vorld dat does dem sort of tings vot dey never ought to did."
Whether she referred to the East Indians or Thompson we know not, but the latter cut short all further remarks by another and more frantic attack upon her ruby lips.
Wallburg's papa was very little seen at the store, his chief duty being to board the ships when they came into the bay, bask in the sun while they remained there, and collect his money from them on their departure. No one informed him of his daughter's indiscretion for some time; and when they did, upon his mildly expostulating with her, he was told to "mind his own business;" he accordingly did so, but at the same time determined to be revenged upon the fellow who was causing his little one to be so lightly spoken of, and he observed to a friend, "Schust vait dill I kets hold of der veller, I vil kiv him vits." Jerry was too smart, however; and the whole time the ship was in port the parent never set eyes on him.
The day before the Stinger departed Puffeigh determined, come what might, to risk an interview with the charming girl who had written so many loving letters to him. In vain his coxswain represented the danger to be great, and the chance of seeing her alone very small: go he would.
He dressed himself in his most killing uniform, and in about threeP.M.walked gently down to the store. Seeing the fair fraulein seated upon a bale of goods waiting for a customer, he thought the coast was clear, and boldly marched in.
Considering the numerous loving passages in her letters, the young lady's reception was rather a cool one. He, however, smiled on her, bowed, and said, "I'm Captain Puffeigh of Her Majesty's ship Stinger."
"You Captain Buffy? Ye-as?" interrogated the lady.
"Yes, my dear, I am he who has so often been delighted with your—" Here headvanced, and was about to grasp her plump hand, when she gave a little scream, and exclaimed, "Gott in Himmel. Mein vater!"
"What? Your father? The deuce!" exclaimed Puffeigh, looking round him with a bewildered air; upon which Miss Pferdscreptern, springing from her seat with a vivacity she rarely evinced, pointed to a narrow door, which the gallant captain hurriedly dashed open, darting into what proved to be a flour-shoot, the young lady immediately turning the button which fastened it.
There was no help for it. Puffeigh could "brave the raging of the sea, but not an angry father." Soon he heard the guttural voice of old Pferdscreptern, who loudly demanded of his daughter "vere vos dat tam sailor who vos schust gome into der store?" The commander trembled, not from fear, of course, so it must have been from the effects of the flour.
The old German was upon the rampage for some time, until at last, being assured by his "kind" "dat the man vos not dere," he quieted down, and calling for his pipe, was soon lost to view in a cloud of smoke.
About a quarter of an hour elapsed, when the lovely fraulein, finding her father asleep, proceeded to mount up into the loft, where, with the ready help of Jerry, who had been there all the time, she raised the board which usually covered the shoot, and having untied a sack of flour, she shot the contents down upon the imprisoned captain.
Half-choked, blinded, and mad, he burst the latch and staggered into the store. Up jumped the parent Pferdscreptern, seized a cowhide, and laid it right vigorously across the whitened figure. The flour flew all over the place, and the captain darted about like a man playing blind-man's buff, his assailant holding on to his coat-tails during the last part of the exercise, and occasionally varying the programme with a well-directed kick. At length, becoming somewhat exhausted, he let his victim go, upon which Puffeigh gasped out, "Wa! what the deuce is all this outrage for, sir? Do you know who I am?"
"You—schust—kit—out, and tousent—gifs—no—more—scheek!" panted the irate Teuton. "Let me catch you mit my kind agin and I vill make it much hotter dan it vas not dis time, mine friend. I tousant care ein heller who you ist. Shust you kit out, dat's all; I'm capden of dis schanty."
Puffeigh left the store a wiser and more subdued man. As he passed the cause of his trouble he imagined she was crying, her apron being thrown over her head and her shoulders heaving as if with grief. But Wallburg did not cry. The strong convulsion moving her frame was not that of woe; and when her father came to her and spoke kindly, she threw off the covering, and fairly roared—with laughter.
When the commander reached his quarters he found no one about, so slipped up to his bed-room, where Jerry was sitting on a chair as if fast asleep.
"Lord bless us!" said the valet, "has it been a snowin'?"
Muttering something about "being attacked and nearly killed," Puffeigh directed his man to get a change of clothes. When he was comfortably arranged he turned to his coxswain and asked him "if he could keep a secret?"
"Any amount of 'em, sir," replied the sailor.
"Then forget you have ever seen me in such a pickle, my man. The day you remember it will be a bad one for you. There's a shilling for you."
"You're too generous, sir," said the amused valet.
The next morning Puffeigh announced to his host that he must at once take up his residence on board ship; and much to his man's sorrow, he ordered him "to pack his traps and take them on board."
It was nearly sunset before Jerry got off, and the traps were packed in anythingbut a neat manner. The truth was, the coxswain lingered with the fair Wallburg, and had almost made up his mind not to go at all, but a little calculation determined him. "If she weighs one hundred and ninety pounds when she is nineteen years old, what will she turn when she's thirty-eight?" thought he. This and his snug berth of coxswain outweighed her tempting offer, and with one last fond kiss, somewhere about the ten-thousandth, the distracted lover tore himself away.
There was the usual hard work going on in the ship during the time they remained in the bay: the men slaved all day, and sang or fished in the evening. After a lapse of four days the Stinger slipped from her moorings and proceeded out to sea. They left Simon's Bay with little regret, and as the land grew dim in their vision there was but one man on board who wished himself back.
"I shall never have such a big chance again," Jerry observed to Mr. Boyldwyte, as they strained their eyes in the direction of the land.
"What chance do you elude to, Mr. Thompson?"
"Ah, cockney, wouldn't you like to know?"
We regret this inconstancy to his old love, Mary Ann, on the part of Jerry. Our only explanation is, that he had an accommodating heart, and was a sailor who