"In every mess would find a friend,In every port a wife."
"In every mess would find a friend,In every port a wife."
"In every mess would find a friend,In every port a wife."
"In every mess would find a friend,
In every port a wife."
The Stinger made the best of her way towards the East Indies, it being rumoured that a portion of the Russian fleet was sailing in that direction, having been shut out of Sebastopol by the rapid action of the allied fleets of France and England.
The day after leaving the Cape, Puffeigh was taken seriously ill, his sickness proving to be brain fever, doubtless caused by the severe treatment received at the hands of the old German. Thompson acted as his nurse; and although he took quite as great care of himself as he did of his patient, Jerry's appointment was not an agreeable one. The commander did not leave his bed until they arrived in Singapore, and the ship was more than ever under the despotic control of Crushe.
It must not be imagined that the first lieutenant tyrannized over every one of his crew,—he was far too prudent to do that. By countenancing a few of the most brutal of the men, he kept himself posted with regard to those who had received cruel treatment by his orders. Again, if his misdeeds came to the knowledge of the press at any port they might visit, he thought it would be as well to have a number of trusty men he could send on shore, who would be a living advertisement for him, and prove by word and deed what jolly fellows the Stingers all were; so he promoted the fiends among the crew, and flogged those who showed a particle of manly feeling or self-respect. Shever was his right-hand man, being perfectly willing to testify to anything at his bidding; and between the Cape and Singapore many a man was brought to the gratings.
The crew were teased and worried until several of them became mutinous, upon which they were reported and flogged, the number of lashes awarded the victims varying from twenty-four to thirty-six, according to the caprice of Crushe; and very few of those not in the first lieutenant's favour escaped with unscarred backs. The boatswain and his mates were often the worse for liquor, and this, when the unjust lieutenant was punishing men for being intoxicated, upon the false testimony of Shever.
Puffeigh signed all the warrants, and would compliment Crushe upon the excellent state of discipline into which he was bringing the crew. "Flog the brutes now you are away from the station, and when in port stop the leave of all those mutinous dogs who ask for their rights, and you will soon have a good crew," commented the commander one day when requested to sanction a brace of warrants for punishment. Thompson, who handed him the pen with which he signed the atrocious orders, uttered a silent prayer that the old Tartar might never be able to sign any others.
Cravan and Crushe were greater friends than ever, and the former gloated over the spectacle of seeing Englishmen enjoy one of their naval privileges—the Lash.
Lieutenant Ford was pained and disgusted, and with the doctor, master, and paymaster, showed his contempt for the first lieutenant by cutting him in every way, and only speaking to him on duty.
They knew that there was no remedy. If either of them were rash enough to report matters to the senior officer, on their arrival at Singapore a court of inquiry would follow. What that would result in they knew but too well; Crushe, having creaturesenough at his command ready to swear to anything, would be exonerated, while in all probability the officer who made the complaint would be sent home in disgrace. Moreover, it is considered ungentlemanly for officers to report each other.
One morning the ship was steaming in a dead calm, with Cravan in charge of the deck, the first lieutenant having ceased to keep regular watch, in consequence of the captain's illness. Midshipman Ryan had mustered the watch and idlers, and found one of the number absent.
"Who is the infernal sweep," demanded Nosey.
Upon this Mr. Shever, who was standing by, reported, "It's Dunstable, sir."
"Fetch him up—rouse him out—don't spare him, Mr. Shever; cut him down, curse him!"
Dunstable was a weak-minded fellow, who had one day before he went to sea stolen a loaf of bread to keep life in his body, and therefore had been a thief according to the law of the land. A humane magistrate gave him the alternative of "entering a man-of-war, or going to prison for a month." The poor idiot chose the freedom of the sea to a lodging in Pentonville palace, and was in due time drafted to the Stinger as an ordinary seaman; probably being, in the words of the facetious boatswain, "about as ordinary a seaman as he'd ever set eyes on." Crushe imagined the idiotic expression of the fellow's face was assumed to induce the commander to dismiss him from the service as useless; but this was not so—the man was weak-minded,—and any one with a particle of humanity in his heart would have been gentle with the "softy."
While at the Cape, Dunstable had tried to desert, so the day after they left that place he was brought to the gratings and received two dozen lashes, which destroyed the little sense he originally possessed; and some of the crew, finding the first lieutenant down upon the poor fellow, played him all manner of tricks. Wet swabs were dropped upon the "mad un," his grog stolen or diluted with vinegar, and pipes charged with powder were lent him by pretended sympathizers; who, knowing their superior officer disliked the man, vented their spleen upon him without fear of consequences.
Shever found Dunstable coiled up in his hammock, pretending to snooze. With the grin of a demon he took out his knife, cut the clews, and let the man down crash upon his head, then grasped him by the hair, and found he had received a severe scalp wound.
Rousing out one of the men who was sleeping near, and who proved to be Tom Clare, Shever told him to call the assistant-surgeon, adding, "Don't you call that cursed meddler, the old doctor;" and giving him a caution not to say anything to the latter, the worthy warrant-officer went on deck.
By some extraordinary accident the senior surgeon was called, we strongly suspect by Clare—although the doctor declared he came forward by accident. Dunstable's wound was sewed up, and the unfortunate fellow told "that he was on the sick list," but as the surgeon left the man the latter got up, and in spite of Clare's persuasions, walked on deck, where he went aft and reported himself ready for duty.
Crushe had just turned out, and was walking the starboard side of the quarter-deck, conversing with Cravan about Dunstable, when the latter made his appearance. Crossing over to the port side, he cursed the smiling idiot as a "useless thing"—"a dirty, beastly hound"—"a son of a dog, unfitted to live;" and turning to Cravan, asked what there was against the fellow.
"Absence from muster, skulking below in his watch on deck, insulting his superior officer (the boatswain), and not going on deck when directed by his superior officer," saying which Cravan pointed to the grinning object, as he would to some loathsome reptile, and added, "Yes, and the beast is filthy, and wants holy stoning."
Crushe then indulged in a flow of shameful abuse. His victim—fool as he was—clenched his fists, ground his teeth, and replied in language no less foul; but after a time he faltered, and wound up with, "Well, thank goodness for everything!"
"What did you say, you yahoo?" roared Crushe.
"I said, Thank goodness for everything, amen. Can't I say my prayers in a man-o'-war?"
"Mr. Shever, give this hound a scrubbing with sand and canvas, and clean his mouth out with it," said the gallant officer and gentleman.
Unable to keep his tongue quiet, and not realizing the purport of the cruel order Dunstable replied, "You're too good to me, sir; thank goodness again! who'd have thought I'd have found such a good friend in a man-o'-war?" However, seeing Shever advance to seize him, the imbecile began to yell, and tried to run forward, but was quickly secured by the boatswain and his mates, with whom the poor fellow bit and fought in very desperation.
"Let me go, you brutes! I won't bother you again if you let me go! I'll take a good long drink if you'll only let me go!"
He would have jumped overboard, if they had released him then, but there was no fear of that,—the business they had in hand was too congenial to their taste for them to let him drown himself, so he was bundled and worried about until his few clothes were stripped off, when, to prevent any further noise on his part, Mr. Shever roughly thrust a gag in his mouth.
The wash deck tub was filled with salt water, a grating laid across, and Dunstable's hands made fast to it behind, so that he could not rise or struggle without injuring his wrists. The boatswain called for a bucket of coarse sand, took a piece of hard sailcloth, wetted it, dipped it in the sand, and himself commenced to inflict the scandalous torture known as "scrubbing with sand and canvas." His mates fell to with zeal, and these fiends in human shape rubbed and excoriated the person of the wretched Dunstable from head to foot. The sand was mixed with shells, which cut like knives, while the salt water pickled and stung until the victim almost fainted, upon which they cut his hands adrift and ducked him in the water.
The watch and idlers knocked off work "to see the sport," and encouraged by the countenance of Crushe and Cravan, shouted with delight whenever the idiot uttered a groan or writhed in agony. There had lately been a great deal of torture inflicted before their eyes, and they had become quite judges of its effects.
When Dunstable had for the tenth time been thrust to the bottom of the brimming wash deck tub, Shever called for a pair of scissors, and proceeded to hack off the hair from the poor victim's head. Many were the jokes indulged in by thegentlebarber at the expense of the idiot, as some of the grinning wags around him asked for "locks of his hair to send to their grandmothers," and when the last clip was made they felt quite sorry there was no more left.
Bruised, demented, and bewildered was the shivering specimen of humanity when they removed the gag, and leading him to the fore-rigging told him "to run for his life three times over the mast head."
As he did not reply or offer to move, the boatswain gave him a kick, upon which he said, "Thank goodness for that!" This raised a laugh among the jolly tars who were standing around him, and one of them, emulating the warrant-officer's example, also dealt the fool a kick.
"I can't go up that ladder," he pleaded. "I'm not up to that move. Thank goodness for all things;" and added, in the slang of the beings who had reared him, "my nibs ain't vardi for that."
"Shever, muster the boys, give each a strip of raw hide, and let them flog this fellow aloft," said Crushe.
The active boatswain soon did as he was directed, and the boys were mustered and equipped in a very short space of time.
"Now, my lads, lay on to him as hard as you like," shouted the first lieutenant.
Dunstable sprang into the rigging when he saw the boatswain arming the boys, who were all willing enough to advance, but afraid of their victim's vicious looks. At last one rat of a boy sprang up beside him, and brought his strip of hide stinging across the poor fellow's naked body. In a moment up went his foot, and with a kick under the jaw, which made the boy bite the tip off his tongue, the hunted man stretched the little brute senseless upon the deck, completely stunned by his fall from the rigging.
Upon seeing this the sailors became furious, and urged the boys to attack him in a body.
"Lay into the brute, you warmints," bellowed the boatswain.
"Give it him, my lads!" cried the first lieutenant.
"A shilling for the next who touches him!" roared Cravan.
Dunstable gave one loud idiotic shout, then darted aloft like a squirrel, followed by twenty vindictive little devils thirsting to avenge the blow he gave their chum. Now one would reach him, when sting would go the torturing raw hide, making the idiot curse and howl like a demon. It was glorious sport for the lookers on, almost as good as bear-baiting.
Up, up they go, pursued and pursuers, until they reach the main-royal-stay; but only one boy followed then, the others hung on to the rigging and watched the sport; they were afraid to go on, the man's eyes glared so. Dunstable saw at a glance if he could only get across he would be safe from his persecutors. Away he clambered up the stay, hand over hand and foot over foot, like an experienced sailor.
The men below turned the quids in their cheeks, and observed to each other that "he warn't sich a darned fool arter all, you know, as he could get about aloft like a regler knowin one." But suddenly he stopped. His right leg slid from the stay, and hung helplessly down; soon the left followed, and he dangled aloft, holding on by his long, lean, sinewless arms.
A groan of horror burst from the crew. "He'll fall! O God, he'll fall!!" said Clare, who, roused out by the noise, had come on deck. All eyes were strained towards the poor wretch, who now began to show signs of total exhaustion. With a fearful wail he let go one hand, and swayed, with the weight of his body entirely thrown upon the other; then suddenly he released his grasp, and shot down towards the deck.
Those who could bear to look saw him strike the main-top-gallant-stay, turn over twice in his descent, and fall across the bridge.
Up sprang Clare, and tenderly he lifted the now broken form of the wretched idiot. Crushe, with livid face and trembling lips, asked him if the man was dead. Tom could not reply. He was too indignant to trust himself to speak; but giving the lieutenant a look of scorn, he raised the body in his powerful arms, and reclining the inanimate head upon his shoulder as gently as a woman would have laid her babe's, bore his mangled burden to the surgery.
The little doctor did his utmost to save the man's life,—amputation of one limb was resorted to, but all without avail. Crushe ordered a screen to be placed across the steerage, and every few moments went to know "how the fellow got on."
But the end was not far off. Maimed by accident or design, mutilated by the surgeon's art, weak and weary, the spirit of Dunstable would have passed away without a struggle, but Crushe came down; and when he saw his enemy standing before himwith no sign of pity, but rather a contemptuous expression upon his cruel face, the victim raised his head, and with his eyes gleaming with unnatural brightness, gasped out, "Youdid this, you monster!youdid this; tell my motherhemurdered me!" Then, with a terrible convulsion, the muscles of his body trembled, and the soul of the idiot passed to the other world, where, we are told, "there will be no more sorrow, nor any trouble known, no more misery or injustice, but all will be joy and peace."
There lay the victim with the marks of the cat upon his body, the effects of the sand torture still visible upon him, and with the livid wales raised by the raw-hide thongs growing more distinct each moment. There lay the idiot, foully murdered, and done to death by Crushe and his subordinates; yet none dared tell of it, or raise their voice in denouncing his murderers.
The doctor told Clare to arrange the body for burial, and the sailor who had himself suffered so much performed the last few offices for the dead. When this was done they carried it up, placed it aft upon the quarter-deck, and spread a flag over it. There it lay until the commander was notified that the ordinary seaman who fell from aloft was ready for burial. Then Puffeigh directed Crushe to "bury the fellow," adding, "he considered it a good riddance;" and that officer, with the blood of his victim on his conscience, stood at the port, and with mock humility read from the prayer book of the Church of England the solemn service "for the burial of the dead, who die at sea." There, with the crew gathered round, the man whose bloody work it was which the flag covered, this sin-steeped wretch, with holy words upon his accursed lips, "committed his brother to the deep,in the sure and certain hope of a joyful resurrection when the sea shall give up its dead."
"Hands, make sail!" A breeze had sprung up, and all that was mortal of Dunstable was soon far astern.
Crushe made the following entry in the log-book of H. M. S. Stinger, where it looked like a very ordinary accident.
"8.50.A.M., lat. —— long. ——. Departed this life, Charles Dunstable, ordinary seaman belonging to this ship, having died from the effects of injuries received through falling from aloft."
"Departed this life," hounded to death, and forced into another, and we hope a happier, state, was this man and brother. "May he rest in peace."
Some time after this, an old woman dozing over her misery by the side of a wretched fire in a London garret, received a letter from a kind-hearted midshipman belonging to the Stinger; and when a friend read the contents to her she cried and rocked herself, saying, "She had lost her boy, her dear, good, darling Charley."
Captain Puffeigh was still on the sick list when the ship arrived at Singapore, where, upon coming to anchor, despatches were received directing the Stinger to refit within twenty-four hours, and proceed to Hong-Kong.
Crushe bullied and drove the crew from 4A.M.until 11P.M., consequently the men deserted at every possible chance, in spite of sentries, master-at-arms, and lynx-eyed midshipmen; and although strict search was made before any craft was allowed to leave the ship's side, very few of the stow-aways were discovered and recaptured in that manner. The lieutenant dared not send a boat's crew on shore, as he knew they would bolt to a man. Even his trusty bullies failed him, and were as anxious to get away as any of the others. Everything seemed what sailors term "jammed up," and the ship appeared to be in the greatest disorder, although in reality she was very rapidly being fitted for sea.
The commander was confined to his cabin, where he amused himself by swearing at Jerry, Boyldwyte, or any stray quartermasters, who were sent down to him with messages.
On deck Crushe indulged in the most fearful language towards the men, who, in their turn, vented the rage they dared not show before their officers upon the boys. As the lads scorned to be outsworn by any sailor breathing, they entirely discarded ordinary words in their conversation, and communicated with each other by oaths of the most powerful and horrible kind, that elegant and improving style of conversation being rather encouraged by the genial first luff, who often declared "that in a gale of wind a sailor who swore was worth two who prayed."
Forward, the deck was strewn with greasy, undulating, fizzing, bursting hoses, through which hundreds of gallons of lukewarm water were forced into the ship's tanks from the boats alongside; while amidships a gang of noisy coolies pitched coal upon the deck, or shovelled it down the shoots, to the airs of the day, popular among those coloured minstrels, their tunes being graphically described to the commander by Jerry as "strong convulsions set to music."
The stewards vied with each other in buying all the lame, blind, and aged poultry brought off to the ship by the enterprising bum-boat men. Wild-eyed, ragged, half-starved, goat-like animals were purchased as sheep and brought aboard by the confiding Boyldwyte. When they were cut adrift, these brutes cruised round the quarter-deck, and picked up a meal of swabs and green paint. There had not been much rain fall for some months in Singapore, and probably anything green was welcome to them. Crushe let them roam about unkicked; he did not like to insult the captain's sheep, and as it would be a difficult matter to poison hide and frame-work, the animals appeared rather more lively than otherwise after their feed of oakum and carpenters' stores. Patriarchal cocks, that had for years been "laid up in ordinary," and excluded from all decent shore fowl-society, limped about the ship, and looked knowingly at the guns, as much as to say, "Ah! there has been great improvement made in these articles since we were hatched." The only bird worth looking at was one called by Boyldwyte a goose, but by the assistant-surgeon derisively pronounced a Dodo. Altogether theornithological collection on board was one calculated to puzzle a naturalist, and drive a poultry fancier out of his mind.
The engineers, who are never outdone by "those midshipmen fellows in the gun-room," came out quite strongly in purchasing live stock. One of the first acquisitions was a pig; which they directed their steward, Angus Mac'Squabble, "to have killed and dressed without delay," so roast pork figured on their bill of fare. During the afternoon this came to the ears of the doctor, who sent for the second engineer, and pointed out to him the risk he ran in partaking of such unclean food. By way of enforcing his argument, he exhibited some highly-coloured illustrations of the delightful creatures found in swine's flesh.
Donald looked at the diagrams—as he termed the pictures—asked the man of science any amount of questions, and then coolly remarked,
"Hech, mon docter! it's ay verra weel for ye to tell me aboot yon, bit as I've eaten an unca guid pund or twa o' the puir beastie, I think I'll gist fa' tult agin, and risk the rest at supper."
Upon hearing this the surgeon gave up further argument, and put away his pictures.
The well-kicked steward, who catered for the midshipmen, was sent on shore early in the morning to "secure the best the market afforded."
Much to the annoyance of the young gentlemen, he did not return until late in the evening, when, staggering into the mess-berth, and throwing a dead turkey-buzzard upon the table, he looked solemnly at the senior midshipman, and said, "Th-there's all the (hic) game I could come a (hic) cross," then wept bitterly, and requested one of the young gemmen 'ud knock his head off, as he was tired of life. Unluckily for the fellow, his only friends in the mess were absent on duty.
The indignant middies held council, and found it imperative on their part to make an example of the fellow, who, after stealing their two hundred dollars, had insulted them by bringing off a stinking turkey-buzzard, instead of a boat load of sea stock; nothing short of a cobbing would meet the requirements of the case. It never, for a moment, occurred to them that had they treated the steward better, he would not have so misbehaved himself.
No doubt the man was not sufficiently appreciative of all their favours, and the many kindnesses theyimaginedhe received at their hands. It was also very wrong indeed for him to lose the money and get intoxicated; but he was a poor weak-minded fellow, and human, although some of the young gentlemen—his masters—often tried to persuade themselves to the contrary.
Torture being rather the popular amusement on board the Stinger, not one of those present imagined the order "to give the Yahoo fits" was a cruel one; and when the senior midshipman, who gave it, proceeded to gag the steward with a towel, willing hands were put forth to hold "the brute." After binding the bewildered victim to the mess table, the young gentlemen worked away at him, until they got tired of the amusement, and then kicked him adrift with instructions "to fetch aft some grog water," upon which he replied, "he would see them blessed if he did."
Finding the man determined to resist lawful authority, they reported him to Crushe, who directed him to be lashed up in the fore-rigging. Strange to say, after he had been suspended by the wrists for an hour he fainted, so he was cast adrift, and told "he might turn in." He never turned out again, being found dead in his hammock when the young gentlemen wanted their coffee the next morning. The doctor was sent for, and he declared the man had died in a fit some hours before; so they entered it inthe ship's log as "a death caused by intoxication and over exertion." No one ever made inquiry about the parish apprentice, and the matter was soon a thing of the past.
Captain Puffeigh declined to receive visitors, and Crushe was obliged to do the honours of the ship. During the morning one of the principal magistrates called to pay his respects to the commander, and was entertained by the first lieutenant. It was quite amusing to hear Crushe speak of the crew, and the old Anglo-Indian thought he had never met a more humane, kind-hearted officer.
"Is it not strange," he remarked, "that although we give our men good pay, excellent food, and the kindest treatment, yet no sooner do they touch shore than they abuse the confidence reposed in them, get drunk and desert?"
"They ought to be flogged, sir—yes, sir! The lash is the thing. I advocate the lash for such fellows. You're a devilish sight too humane, sir."
"My dear sir, pardon me! not the lash. We can do without that."
"True! Well, you are right; the cause of humanity forbids its use. I honour your sentiments, sir. I was hasty."
Crushe led the old fellow into a promise, "that he would use his utmost endeavour to cause the arrest of every deserter then on shore;" and, true to his word, by night all were seized and sent on board again. When the last man was caught, he shocked the worthy old magistrate by describing the Stinger as a "hell afloat," and declaring "Crushe was a cold-blooded tyrant." One of the officials who heard this statement seemed desirous of inquiring into the matter, but he was overruled by his brother magistrate, who informed him that "the noble young officer was a most gentle, kind man, and he would pledge his honour that the sailor spoke falsely." The deserters were double ironed and placed in an empty shell room, where they spent a most uncomfortable night.
Mrs. Puffeigh had a very dear cousin residing in Singapore, and her husband was intrusted with a small parcel, which she instructed him "to deliver to darling Horace with his own hands." The package was sealed; and although quite capable of such meanness, he was afraid to open it. Several times he determined to drop it overboard, but anticipating certain after consequences, let it remain in his valise, where it served as a kind of mental blister for the amiable old man. As upon arrival in port the doctor pronounced him too unwell to visit the shore, he determined to act the invalid, and decline to see the object of his jealousy, even if he came off to call upon him.
Mr. Oldcrackle was a wealthy merchant, who had not visited England for some years; and his flirtation with Mrs. Puffeigh consisted in an exchange of letters, exceedingly amusing as far as the writers were concerned, and of which the gallant captain of course knew nothing.
When the Stinger left England the lady wrote to her dear coz as follows:
"My darling Cousin,"Blue-Beard leaves for your out-of-the-way place to-day. I have given him a small parcel, which contains my portrait. Don't be a dear old donkey over it, as you were over the last. If the seal is broken, tell me. I know B. B. is inquisitive, and will cure him if he has dared to tamper with my private affairs. When are you coming home?"Your loving little coz,"Helen.""P. S. Take care of B. B., and see he does not get into mischief. He is a very harmless old thing."
"My darling Cousin,
"Blue-Beard leaves for your out-of-the-way place to-day. I have given him a small parcel, which contains my portrait. Don't be a dear old donkey over it, as you were over the last. If the seal is broken, tell me. I know B. B. is inquisitive, and will cure him if he has dared to tamper with my private affairs. When are you coming home?
"Your loving little coz,"Helen."
"P. S. Take care of B. B., and see he does not get into mischief. He is a very harmless old thing."
Puffeigh was in his bath when Mr. Oldcrackle's brown servant arrived on board with an invitation for the captain to take up his abode at his bungalow, during the Stinger's stay in the harbour. The gallant warrior did not condescend to fully peruse the note, but directing Jerry to tell him "he would send up the parcel that evening," he dropped the letter in the water, and vented his feelings by blessing the writersotto voce.
As Thompson was leaving the cabin for the purpose of carrying out his instructions, he heard the servant's voice near the after-skylight, speaking to the quartermaster of the watch; so, to save a journey on deck, Jerry got upon the table, and putting his head up the hatch, told the flunkey "to give the captain's compliments to his master, and he would call upon him that evening;" then slipping off his perch, disappeared from the astonished gaze of the coloured individual.
"Captain sahib berry funny man," remarked the oriental to the quartermaster.
"You'd find him a sight funnier if you shipped under him," replied the old salt.
When the servant reported the matter to Oldcrackle, he told him, "Captain sahib hab handsome eye, like debil."
About six o'clock in the evening Puffeigh sent Thompson on shore with a note, "declining Mr. Oldcrackle's invitation on account of ill-health, and begging to forward a small parcel from his dear wife."
Knowing his cruise would be a very short one if he went in sailor's attire, the coxswain did not scruple to avail himself of the captain's wardrobe, from which he borrowed a shooting suit and opera hat. These he made into a parcel, and took upon the quarter-deck, telling Crushe "they were the things the captain had ordered him to carry on shore." As it was not prudent to send a ship's boat with the sailor, the lieutenant called a waterman alongside, and directed him to "take the coxswain to the nearest wharf." Jerry touched his forelock, and said, "Any orders, sir?" upon which Crushe laughed; and giving him some money, directed the impudent sailor "to bring him off a dozen fine green pines, and mind not to come without them."
The coxswain stepped into the boat, and as soon as the Stinger was lost in the gloom proceeded to strip, and re-clothe himself in Puffeigh's garments, in which, if we except the opera hat, he strongly resembled a poacher. The boatman did not trouble himself,—it was no business of his,—as the sailor gave him a liberal fare; so after having landed the man, he hauled up his boat for the night, and retired to the bosom of his family.
Jerry was not a stranger in Singapore, having visited the place in a merchant ship; therefore upon landing he at once proceeded to the house of an old acquaintance, who made a living by selling fruit and rum to the sailors on board ships in the harbour, and poisoning them with bad liquor when they called to have a good time on shore. Having ordered some pines and deposited his sailor's clothes with his friend, the coxswain stepped into a sedan, and directed the bearers to take him to Mr. Oldcrackle's. Before starting the generous hotel-keeper handed him a bottle of ale and a cigar, entreating him to "julde julde, and be back soon," as he wanted to have a good long talk with him; i. e. make him drunk and rob him.
After a pleasant ride, during which the sailor smoked his cigar, and imbibed the nauseous mixture given him as ale, the bearers turned into a well-kept compound, upon which Jerry threw the empty bottle into the shrubbery, dropped his cigar, and took out the parcel addressed to Mr. Oldcrackle, and so found himself opposite the bungalow.
Out came a servant, who salämmed and "desired his excellency the captain sahib would alight."
The somewhat puzzled tar paid his bearers, and followed the servant into a spacious hall, whence he was conducted into a side room, where he found a suit of white linen clothes laid out.
"Will the sahib deign to put on these?" inquired the obsequious flunky.
It now dawned upon the mind of the bewildered sailor that he was being taken for his commander; and as he knew a good dinner awaited him, he accepted the situation. When he had completed his toilet he drank a glass of brandy pawnee, and ordered the servant "to lead the way to the banquet."
Upon entering the dining-room the guests rose, and Oldcrackle came forward and welcomed him in true East Indian fashion. Jerry handed the parcel to the merchant, then turning to the other gentlemen he observed, "Having done that, I beg to take my leave."
"My dear fellow, you're not going off like that. Come, sit down, I've asked these gentlemen specially to meet you; indeed, you must stay."
"'Pon my word I'm almost inclined to."
"Come, Puffeigh, sit down like a sensible fellow," added the host, saying which he led the not unwilling coxswain to the table, and seated him at his right hand; at the same time directing the butler to fill up the captain sahib's glass with champagne.
Thompson was now formally introduced to the guests; and finding they all took him for a genuine royal naval captain, fell to at the viands, and ate as if he had not tasted food for a week.
"You don't get such a curry as that on board, do you, Puffeigh?" said Oldcrackle, who, like most old East Indians, had very little appetite left, and consequently looked upon a man who could make a good hearty meal as a lucky fellow.
"No," replied his visitor, "our cook ain't up to this; pea soup and duff is more in his line."
This observation ofthe captainset the table in a roar. "Capital!" screamed one, "Haw, haw," laughed another.
They all thought the commander was speaking facetiously of his French cook, and were immensely tickled with his peculiar phraseology.
Oldcrackle saw that the captain was a six-bottled man, and admired the quiet manner in which he tilted off a glass of champagne—no sips. No sooner was the glass filled than up it went to his lips, when in an instant it was emptied and returned to the table. We may add this raised him in the merchant's estimation, but it puzzled him why Helen described Puffeigh as "a harmless old thing;" however, he came to the conclusion that it must be a term of endearment, and thought no further about it.
European residents in those days kept up the old English custom of drinking healths, so in due time the host arose, glass in hand, and begged "to propose the health of his guest and cousin, the worthy naval hero who sat by his side. Gentlemen, I can say that this day I have found a relation, a cousin. This gentleman has hitherto been unknown to me. I propose his health, with three times three, and one,
'For he's a jolly good fellow,And so say all of us,' &c., &c."
'For he's a jolly good fellow,And so say all of us,' &c., &c."
'For he's a jolly good fellow,And so say all of us,' &c., &c."
'For he's a jolly good fellow,
And so say all of us,' &c., &c."
The genial old merchant led off the above ditty, which was roared forth by the guests in chorus, all standing bumper in hand. When the noise had subsided Jerry was called upon to make a speech in reply; so fortifying himself with a glass of burgundy, he rose, first pulling his forelock in true nautical style (which funny action raised a laugh, and delayed his speech for a few minutes), and spoke as follows:—
"Ladies and gentlemen, I beg yer pardin, I wish there was some ladies present,bless 'em, I love all of 'em (roars of laughter). Gentlemen, you flatter me. I am a very humble individual (cheers), and did you know all, you would do anything but drink my health (renewed cheers). Gentlemen, I am proud to meet with such jolly good fellows (cheers, and cries of 'Bravo, captain'), I would be proud to see you all aboard the Stinger to-morrow, but we sail at daylight (cries of 'No, no! stay here for a month'). Gentlemen you don't know how Ishouldlike to stay here for a month (cheers). I am a plain sailor (cheers and cries of 'You're a brick, old fellow'), I came here little thinking I should have such a blow-out (loud laughter), and I can say I never was better treated in my life (cheers, and cries of 'give up the sea and settle here, old boy'). Gentlemen, here's towards you, and I wishes you many happy returns of the day" (roars of laughter and cheers, amidst which Thompson seated himself, and motioned the butler to bring him another bottle of wine).
A very merry time followed the delivery of this speech, no one imagining it was said in sober earnestness. They had often heard worse from captains of the old school; so they drank the "jolly good fellow's" health again, and swore he was a "tremendous brick."
After a time the party adjourned to the drawing room, and the merchant took the opportunity to have a quiet chat with his cousin's husband. Seating themselves in the verandah, the following conversation took place:
"I like this portrait of your wife immensely."
"Do you? I don't think it's flattering."
"Have you any family? You see I am quite ignorant of your affairs." (Sly dog, he received a letter from his dear cousin nearly every mail.)
"Aw, well, there's no family that I know of."
Oldcrackle lay back in his chair, and fairly roared with laughter. After a time, however, he again questioned his guest.
"You ought to be very happy with such a girl as Helen. How can you bear to leave her?"
"Well, you see, we now and then have a row—she goes to balls and stays out all night, and then I blow up a bit—but it all comes right again, and I buy her a lot of diamonds, and that makes it up." (Jerry was a little adrift here, so he replied in what he considered the correct style in high life.)
"Oh!" thought Oldcrackle, "that's what Helen means by B. B.; well, although he is not bad looking, he is by far too rough a fellow for a gentle being like her;" and then the old merchant thought what a different match the girl would have made if she had only waited for him.
Thompson now lighted a cigar, and puffed away like a locomotive, to avoid answering further questions.
At this moment a very pretty half-caste girl glided into the verandah, and taking her place behind the merchant's chair, commenced to fan him. AlayÄ was a great pet of Oldcrackle, her father having died in his service, and we will do the merchant the justice to say, he was a kind master, both to the widow and daughter—the latter having budded into womanhood without any one regarding her otherwise than as a child.
"Well, AlayÄ," said her master, "do you see the captain sahib?"
The girl nodded and smiled at Jerry.
"Go and fan him, child."
AlayÄ walked round, and taking position behind the coxswain's chair—so close that he felt her balmy breath upon his forehead—proceeded to cool his face with a soft and gentle motion of her fan, at the same time looking down upon him, from under herlong silken eyelashes, in a manner that would have seduced a much less susceptible individual than our sailor.
"Oh Lor! ain't that lovely!" ejaculated the coxswain, as leaning back he brought his eyes to bear upon those of the lovely girl, who fanned and smiled—smiled and gazed upon him, until Jerry, instead of being cool, was in a high state of fever.
Oldcrackle was all this time gazing upon Mrs. Puffeigh's portrait; and as he slightly turned his back uponher husbandwhen he did this, failed to observe the little flirtation going on at the other side of the verandah, although the moon was shining brightly. At last he said, in a dreamy kind of manner,
"Ah! she's a lovely creature."
"Werry," echoed the sailor, pursing his lips, and blowing kisses towards the delighted girl by his side.
"You're very fond—of—her—are—you—not!" mused the merchant, who was half asleep, and almost dreaming of his English cousin—(she did not paint when he knew her).
"Werry." Saying which Jerry, seeing his host was now asleep, placed his arm round the supple waist of the girl, and drawing her towards him, gave her a sounding kiss.
Oldcrackle woke with a start, and sat bolt upright in his chair, calling out, "What's that?" Upon turning round towards his guest, he saw the latter with his hand held to his cheek, as if he had just slapped it in order to crush some insect.
"What's that, Puffeigh?"
"A thundering big mooseskeeter just settled on my—" here the sailor slapped his face again, as if he had just killed another tormentor.
AlayÄ was sitting behind the coxswain's chair, apparently fast asleep.
The old merchant murmured something about "soon being used—to—those—th—things," then snoozed off again, and snored.
AlayÄ woke up, or pretended to do so, and the enchanted sailor soon was supporting her in the former manner. Poor girl, she was far too deeply in love to sit upon a chair, so Jerry kindly placed his arm round her waist to prevent her falling, while she fanned and drove him out of his senses at the same time. At last he whispered to her,
"Do you love me, Alayer?"
The girl nodded several times.
"Kiss me!"
AlayÄ did not know it was wrong. "The sahib was lovely, and no one had ever noticed her so before."
"Kiss me!" repeated the enamoured tar.
With a startled face, and quickly gazing round to make sure that no one was looking, the beautiful girl stooped forward, laid her soft lips upon those of the delighted sailor, and gave him a tender loving kiss; then, like a timid fawn, drew back and trembled with fear of discovery.
At this moment her master awoke.
After a yawn and stretch, Oldcrackle turned to his guest, but finding him to all appearance asleep, he ordered AlayÄ to wake him.
When that difficult matter was accomplished, for the sailor pretended to be very fast asleep indeed, the merchant asked him "how he had enjoyed his forty winks."
"I thought I was in Mayhomed's Parodice," replied Jerry, winking at the now placid AlayÄ; "and I would werry much rather never to have left again."
"You sly dog!" said the other, and addedsotto voce, "A married man, and talk so."
The sailor laughed, saying, "Ah! I'm a deal slyer than you imagine."
A hearty laugh followed this speech, then, hooking his arm within that of theeccentric captain, the delighted Oldcrackle conducted hisrelationinto the drawing-room, where they found every one engaged in playing whist.
Thompson was pretty well employed in imbibing soda and brandy until a late hour, and was far from sober, when Oldcrackle, who had also taken a great deal more wine than his usual quantity, challenged him to play a game of whist, to which the sailor solemnly agreed. AlayÄ was watching them from the verandah. Seeing the girl, her master bade her fetch him a pack of cards. When she brought them into the room, Jerry caught her round the waist, and "declared he would marry her, if they would only schend for a parson." Up sprang the guests, who crowded round the "captain," and enjoyed the scene immensely.
"Yesh," added the sailor, with the greatest gravity, "I'll marry her, she is the best and mosth beautifullish girl I ever met in all my bornish daish."
"Let me go, sahib! let me go!"
"No, you beaufiflish girlsh in the world. I'll keep you heresh for ever, and die with you in my armsh."
After a little persuasion he released the trembling AlayÄ, and was led to bed by his host, murmuring all the time that "Alayer was the only angel he had ever seen."
"The idea of his spooning over little AlayÄ!" observed one of the guests.
"He's mad!" said another.
"Not at all, gentlemen, he's like all naval men,—rather susceptible, and AlayÄ's pretty face has turned his brain; he is a thoroughly good fellow, so let us drink the health of Captain Puffeigh, and that of his officers and crew," observed Oldcrackle, who now returned.
The party then separated, and many were the comments on Captain Puffeigh's extraordinary behaviour.
Where was AlayÄ?—Crouched in the verandah under the captain sahib's window, and crying quietly for "love of the beautiful one, who kissed her, and made her heart beat so; the handsome sahib who took such notice of poor little AlayÄ. Now he was sick and might die. Oh, sad! and his slave not near him. Would she could creep between the jalousies, and crouch at the foot of his bed. She could see his eyes now, they were—"
"AlayÄ!" cried her mother, "where are you? Come, my child, there's no more fanning to do to-night; go to your mat."
So the little half-caste retired to rest, or rather curled herself up on her mat, and wept until morning broke.
Before sunrise Jerry was up and stirring. After a search he secured his clothes, and was quite ready to leave the bungalow, but he still crept about the passages, candle in hand. Did he want to say good-bye to his kind host? No. Was it a soda and brandy he required? No. As he explored the matted corridors, he murmured, "I wish to goodness I could find out if Alayer's about, I would so like to apologize to her for my rudeness."
However, not finding her, he left the house, managing to get away without observation.
Thompson walked down to the hotel, changed his clothes, packed Puffeigh's up with the pines in a basket, placed a bottle of grog under all, and taking a shore boat, made the best of his way on board his ship.
Crushe was walking the quarter-deck, when the coxswain reported himself as having "come aboard."
"Why were you not back last night?" demanded the angry first lieutenant.
"I was huntin' ov your pines, sir; they were werry scarce, and I came off the moment I got 'em."
"That will do, you brute; you have the best of me this time," said Crushe, with a grin.
So Jerry got the better of Puffeigh, Oldcrackle, and Crushe, and not one pang of remorse ever seemed to trouble him with regard to AlayÄ. Perhaps we do not know what he felt. She certainly was too good for the fellow they married her to very shortly afterwards, and to this day AlayÄ dreams of the "beautiful captain sahib," who made her heart beat so.
The Stinger sailed at 9A.M., and Oldcrackle never saw his real cousin. When Puffeigh was on his way back to England he only remained at Singapore an hour; and not having much regard for his wife's relation, he did not call upon the hospitable merchant, so the fraud was never discovered.
The letter which Puffeigh gave Thompson was posted by the latter in the galley fire.