Chapter Eleven.

Chapter Eleven.Signing Articles.“She’s loading at Cardiff—cargo o’ steam coals, I b’lieve, for some o’ them Pee-ruvian men-o’-war out there,” explained Sam, presently, when the first excitement occasioned by his announcement of the news had somewhat calmed down. “It’s lucky, laddie, as how the schooner’s all ready for sailing, as I thought o’ fetching down to Saint Mary’s morrer mornin’, arter some new taties; but the taties must wait now, and I fancy as how this arternoon tide’ll sarve jest as well for us—the wind’s right fair for the Lizard, too!”“What, Sam—you don’t mean that, really?” exclaimed Jane Pengelly, not expecting such a hurried sending of me off to sea. “Surely not so soon, my man, eh?” She was almost breathless with grief and surprise.“Aye, but I do mean it,” persisted he. “The shep’s a loadin’ now, I tell you, and she oughter start on her v’yage in a fortnight’s time at th’ outside; and if you reckon as how we’ll take a week to reach Cardiff, we’ll ha’ no time to lose, for, if the wind changes arter we rounds the Longships, we’ll ha’ all our work cut out to beat up the Bristol Channel, in time to see the lad comf’ably off!”“My, Sam! couldn’t you take the train across country to Cardiff, when you’d all ha’ more time for getting ready, and I could see to mending all the poor dearie’s things before he goes for—it’ll be the last sight I’ll ever see of his blessed face?”Jane Pengelly said this timidly, wiping her eyes carefully, with each corner of her apron in turn; for, she well knew her brother’s horror of the railway, and all conveyances—indeed, he disliked any mode of land travelling, save on foot, or “on Shank’s mare,” as he called it, which was the plan he invariably adopted for reaching such places which he could not get to by water.“Why, Jane, my woman,” Sam indignantly rejoined; “your brains must all be a wool-gathering! Catch me and the lad agoing by that longshore schreechin’, smokin’, ramshacklin’ fire engine, when we can ha’ a boat’s sound plank under our foot, and sail over the sea in a nat’ral sort o’ way, such as we’re born to! You’re the last person to think as how Sam Pengelly ’d desart his colours and bringing-up, for to go over to such an outlandish way o’ fetching the port for which he’s bound! No, Jane—I ain’t angry, but I feels hurt a bit on the h’insinivation—but there, let it be. We’ll go round to Cardiff in the schooner, as is as smart a little craft for a passage boat as ere a one could wish to clap eyes on, though I says it as shouldn’t, and we’ll start, laddie, this arternoon, as soon as the tide sets down Channel; so, you’d better see after your traps, and stow your chest when dinner’s over—and then, we’ll get under weigh, and clear outwards!”Little dinner, however, was eaten that day at the cottage, notwithstanding the fact that Jane Pengelly, as a reward for my industry in making up and remoulding her asparagus bed, had concocted a favourite Cornish dish for our repast, y’clept a “Mevagissey pie” - a savoury compound consisting of alternate slices of mutton and layers of apples and onions cut into pieces, and symmetrically arranged, the whole being subsequently covered with a crust, pie-fashion, and then baked in the oven until well browned; when, although the admixture seems somewhat queer to those unused to a Cornish cuisine, the result is not by any means to be despised; rather is it uncommonly jolly!Generally, this dish would have been considered atour de forceon the table, and not much left of it after our united knife and fork play when operations had once begun; but now, albeit Sam Pengelly made a feeble pretence of having a tremendous appetite, failing most ridiculously in the attempt, while his sister heaped up my plate, we were all too much perturbed in our minds to do justice to the banquet. So it was that the Mevagissey pie, toothsome as it was, went almost untasted away, Jane removing the remains presently to the larder—that was, as she said, but I could not help noticing that she did not return afterwards to clear away the dinner things and make matters tidy in the kitchen, as was her regular custom when we had finished meals.I soon found out the reason of this, when, on going up shortly afterwards to my little room, I discovered the soft-hearted creature bending over the sea-chest which I had been presented with—in addition to her son Teddy’s clothes and other property—“having a good cry,” as she said in excuse for the weakness.From some cause or other, she had taken to me from the moment her brother Sam first brought me to the cottage, placing me in the vacant spot in her heart left by Teddy’s early death, and I am sure my own mother, if she had lived, could not have loved me more.Of course I reciprocated her affection—how could I help it, when she and her brother were the only beings in the world who had ever exhibited any tenderness towards me?Strangely enough, however, she would never allow me to call her “mother” or “Mistress Pengelly,” as I wanted to—thinking “Jane” too familiar, especially when applied by a youngster like myself to a middle-aged woman.No, she would not hear of my addressing her otherwise than by her Christian name.“If you calls me Missis anything, dearie, mind if I don’t speak to you always as ‘Master Leigh’—that distant as how you won’t know me,” she said; so, as she always said what she meant, I did as she wished, and she continued to style me her “dearie,” that being the affectionate pet name she had for me, in the same way as her brother Sam had dubbed me his “cockbird,” when he first introduced himself to me on the Hoe, a mode of address which he still persisted in.I may add, by the way, to make an end of these explanations, that Jane Pengelly had married her first cousin on the father’s side, as the matter was once elaborately made plain to me; consequently, she was not compelled, as most ladies are, to “change her name” when she wedded Teddy’s sire, and still retained after marriage her ancestral patronymic—which was sometimes sported with such unction by her brother, when laying down the law and giving a decided opinion.Partings are sad things, and the sooner they are over the better. So Sam thought too, no doubt, for he presently hailed us both to come down-stairs, as time was up, and a man besides waiting with a hand-truck to trundle my chest down to the quay in the Cattwater, off which Sam’s little schooner was lying.Thereupon, Jane giving me a final hug, my chest was bundled below in a brace of shakes, and Sam and I, accompanied by the man wheeling the truck, were on our way down the Stoke Road towards Plymouth—a lingering glance which I cast behind, in order to give a farewell wave of the hand to my second mother, imprinting on my memory every detail of the little cottage, with its clematis-covered porch, and the bright scarlet geraniums and fuchsias in full bloom in front, and Jane Pengelly’s tearful face standing out amidst the flowers, crying out a last loving “good-bye!”We reached the schooner in good time so as to fetch out of the Sound before the tide ebbed, and, after clearing the breakwater, as the wind was to the northward of east, Sam made a short board on the port tack towards the Eddystone, in order to catch the western stream—which begins to run down Channel an hour after the flood, when about six miles out or so from the land, the current inshore setting up eastwards towards the Start and being against us if we tried to stem it by proceeding at once on our true course.When we had got into the stream, however, and thus had the advantage of having the tideway with us, Sam let the schooner’s head fall off; and so, wearing her round, he shaped a straight course for the Lizard, almost in the line of a crow’s flight, bringing the wind nearly right aft to us now on the starboard tack as we ran before it. We passed abreast of the goggle-eyed lighthouse on the point which marks the landfall for most mariners when returning to the English Channel after a foreign voyage, close on to midnight—not a bad run from Plymouth Sound, which we had left at four o’clock in the afternoon.It was a beautiful bright moonlight night, the sea being lighted up like a burnished mirror, and the clear orb making the distant background of the Cornish coast come out in relief, far away on our western bow. The wind being still fair for us, keeping to the east-nor’-east, Sam brought it more abeam, bearing up so that he might pass between the Wolf Rock and the Land’s End, striking across the bight made by Mount’s Bay in order to save the way we would have lost if he had taken the inshore track, like most coasters—and, indeed, as he would have been obliged to do if it had been foggy or rough, which, fortunately for us, it wasn’t.By sunrise next morning we had fetched within a couple of miles of the Longships; when, bracing round the schooner’s topsail yard and sailing close-hauled, with the wind nearly on our bow, we ran for Lundy Island in the British Channel.I never saw any little craft behave better than the schooner did now, sailing on a bowline being her best point of speed, as is the case with most fore and aft rigged vessels. She almost “ate into the wind’s eye;” and, although the distance was over a hundred miles from the Longships, she was up to Lundy by nightfall, on this, the second day after leaving home.From this point, however, we had to beat up all the way to Cardiff, as the easterly wind was blowing straight down the Bristol Channel, and consequently dead in our teeth, as soon as we began to bear up. It was a case of tack and tack about—first a long leg over to the Mumbles on the starboard tack, followed by a corresponding reach towards Dunkery Beacon on the port hand; backwards and forwards, see-saw, turn and turn about, until, finally, we rounded Penarth Heads, arriving at our destination on the afternoon of our fourth day from Plymouth.We got to Cardiff none too early, either.TheEsmeraldahaving completed loading in her cargo sooner than the owners had expected, had cast-off from the jetty and was now lying in the stream off the harbour. She was quite ready to start on her voyage, and seemed longing to be on the move, for her topsails were hanging loose and the courses were in the brails, so that they could be let fall and sheeted home at a moment’s notice.We could see this for ourselves, as we rounded close under the vessel’s stern when running into the harbour; and further particulars of the ship’s readiness to set sail we learnt at the agent’s ashore, with whom Sam Pengelly had been in communication for some time, unknown to me, with reference to having me articled as a first-class apprentice in one of their best ships. The good-hearted fellow, too, without my knowledge, although I learnt this later on, had entered into an agreement to pay a good round sum as a premium for me in order that I might have accommodation aft and mess with the officers.Sam enlightened me about some of these particulars, mentioning the arrangements he had made for my comfort, while we were making our trip round to the Bristol Channel in the schooner, our departure from the cottage having been too hurried for me to gain any information on the point, save the great fact of my being about to go to sea at last. The reason for the delay in this, Sam now explained to me, was on account of the absence of theEsmeraldaon a long round voyage to the China seas and back, my worthy old friend having picked that vessel out from amongst the many that had put into Plymouth since I had been with him, and which he had overhauled for the special purpose in view, because of her staunch sailing qualities and the clipper-like cut of her lines, besides his personal knowledge that she was “commanded by a skipper as knew how to handle a shep,” as he said, “so as a b’y might expect to larn somethin’ under him,” and he had therefore set his heart on my going in her.We had not now been long at the agent’s, from the windows of whose small office we could see the barque riding at her moorings, before this identical gentleman came bustling in as if in a most desperate hurry.“Why, here he is!” ejaculated Sam aside to me as he entered, saying to the other as he took off his cap with one hand and shoved out his other fist in greeting, “Sarvent, sir, Cap’en Billings; how d’ye find yourself since we last met in Plymouth Sound?”“Oh, is that you, Pengelly?” responded the skipper of theEsmeraldacordially, accepting Sam’s proffered hand and shaking it heartily, “I was just thinking of you and your boy—have you brought him with you?”“Aye, there’s the b’y,” replied Sam, pushing me forward affectionately, “and a right good straight up and down youngster you’ll find him, Cap’en Billings, with all the makings of a sailor in him, I tell you, sure’s my name’s Sam Pengelly!”“Well, I’ll take your word for that,” laughed the other.He seemed to me at first sight a genial good-tempered man—with rough reddish hair and beard, and a pair of merry twinkling blue eyes; but I could also see, from a quick sharp look he threw over me, reckoning me up from top to toe, that he’d all his wits about him and was used to command.He looked like one of those sort of fellows that wouldn’t be trifled with when roused.“I’m glad to see you, Leigh, and have you with me,” he said to me, affably—although he didn’t offer to shake hands, some distance lying between the position of a skipper and an apprentice. “You’re lucky to be just in time, though, for we’re all ready to sail as soon as the tide serves for us to cross the outer bar and be off. Got all the papers ready, Mr Tompkins?”“Yes, captain,” replied the agent. “Here they are; Leigh and Mr Pengelly have just signed them.”“All right then. If you’ll come along with me over to the Marine Superintendent’s office,” said Captain Billings, to us two, “we’ll have the signatures witnessed to these indenture articles; and then the thing’ll be all settled, and the boy can come aboard at once.”“Heave ahead, my hearty,” replied Sam. “We’re both ready and willing;” and thereupon we all adjourned to the presence of the responsible official of the port entrusted with the supervision of all matters connected with the mercantile marine, in whose presence I was formally bound apprentice to the captain of theEsmeralda.These preliminaries duly arranged, Sam Pengelly had some further dealings of a private nature with the captain and agent, in which the chinking of gold coin had apparently a good deal to do; and then he and I, at the skipper’s invitation, taking our seats in a boat that was lying by the side of the jetty started off for theEsmeralda, whither Sam had previously directed one of the schooner’s men to have my sea-chest removed while we went on to the agent’s.Really, I could not explain the mingled feelings of hope, joy, pride, and satisfaction, that had filled my breast at the thought that I was really going to sea, and having the darling wish of my heart at last gratified—my contentment much increased by my overhearing a whispered comment of my new captain to Sam Pengelly, that I “wasn’t a pigeon-toed landsman, thank goodness!” He said he could see that from the manner in which I put my feet on the side cleats, as I got out of the boat and swung myself up to the gangway.“Now at length,” thought I, speaking of myself in Sam’s fashion, as if I were some other person—“Martin Leigh you are going afloat at last!”And, although I was only an humble reefer in the merchant service, whose spick-and-span uniform of blue serge and gold-banded cap had never yet smelt salt water to christen them, I felt as proud on first stepping “on board theEsmeralda” as Nelson must have done, when standing on the quarter-deck of theVictoryand seeing her close with the Spanish fleet immediately after his famous signal was displayed—“England expects every man this day to do his duty!”

“She’s loading at Cardiff—cargo o’ steam coals, I b’lieve, for some o’ them Pee-ruvian men-o’-war out there,” explained Sam, presently, when the first excitement occasioned by his announcement of the news had somewhat calmed down. “It’s lucky, laddie, as how the schooner’s all ready for sailing, as I thought o’ fetching down to Saint Mary’s morrer mornin’, arter some new taties; but the taties must wait now, and I fancy as how this arternoon tide’ll sarve jest as well for us—the wind’s right fair for the Lizard, too!”

“What, Sam—you don’t mean that, really?” exclaimed Jane Pengelly, not expecting such a hurried sending of me off to sea. “Surely not so soon, my man, eh?” She was almost breathless with grief and surprise.

“Aye, but I do mean it,” persisted he. “The shep’s a loadin’ now, I tell you, and she oughter start on her v’yage in a fortnight’s time at th’ outside; and if you reckon as how we’ll take a week to reach Cardiff, we’ll ha’ no time to lose, for, if the wind changes arter we rounds the Longships, we’ll ha’ all our work cut out to beat up the Bristol Channel, in time to see the lad comf’ably off!”

“My, Sam! couldn’t you take the train across country to Cardiff, when you’d all ha’ more time for getting ready, and I could see to mending all the poor dearie’s things before he goes for—it’ll be the last sight I’ll ever see of his blessed face?”

Jane Pengelly said this timidly, wiping her eyes carefully, with each corner of her apron in turn; for, she well knew her brother’s horror of the railway, and all conveyances—indeed, he disliked any mode of land travelling, save on foot, or “on Shank’s mare,” as he called it, which was the plan he invariably adopted for reaching such places which he could not get to by water.

“Why, Jane, my woman,” Sam indignantly rejoined; “your brains must all be a wool-gathering! Catch me and the lad agoing by that longshore schreechin’, smokin’, ramshacklin’ fire engine, when we can ha’ a boat’s sound plank under our foot, and sail over the sea in a nat’ral sort o’ way, such as we’re born to! You’re the last person to think as how Sam Pengelly ’d desart his colours and bringing-up, for to go over to such an outlandish way o’ fetching the port for which he’s bound! No, Jane—I ain’t angry, but I feels hurt a bit on the h’insinivation—but there, let it be. We’ll go round to Cardiff in the schooner, as is as smart a little craft for a passage boat as ere a one could wish to clap eyes on, though I says it as shouldn’t, and we’ll start, laddie, this arternoon, as soon as the tide sets down Channel; so, you’d better see after your traps, and stow your chest when dinner’s over—and then, we’ll get under weigh, and clear outwards!”

Little dinner, however, was eaten that day at the cottage, notwithstanding the fact that Jane Pengelly, as a reward for my industry in making up and remoulding her asparagus bed, had concocted a favourite Cornish dish for our repast, y’clept a “Mevagissey pie” - a savoury compound consisting of alternate slices of mutton and layers of apples and onions cut into pieces, and symmetrically arranged, the whole being subsequently covered with a crust, pie-fashion, and then baked in the oven until well browned; when, although the admixture seems somewhat queer to those unused to a Cornish cuisine, the result is not by any means to be despised; rather is it uncommonly jolly!

Generally, this dish would have been considered atour de forceon the table, and not much left of it after our united knife and fork play when operations had once begun; but now, albeit Sam Pengelly made a feeble pretence of having a tremendous appetite, failing most ridiculously in the attempt, while his sister heaped up my plate, we were all too much perturbed in our minds to do justice to the banquet. So it was that the Mevagissey pie, toothsome as it was, went almost untasted away, Jane removing the remains presently to the larder—that was, as she said, but I could not help noticing that she did not return afterwards to clear away the dinner things and make matters tidy in the kitchen, as was her regular custom when we had finished meals.

I soon found out the reason of this, when, on going up shortly afterwards to my little room, I discovered the soft-hearted creature bending over the sea-chest which I had been presented with—in addition to her son Teddy’s clothes and other property—“having a good cry,” as she said in excuse for the weakness.

From some cause or other, she had taken to me from the moment her brother Sam first brought me to the cottage, placing me in the vacant spot in her heart left by Teddy’s early death, and I am sure my own mother, if she had lived, could not have loved me more.

Of course I reciprocated her affection—how could I help it, when she and her brother were the only beings in the world who had ever exhibited any tenderness towards me?

Strangely enough, however, she would never allow me to call her “mother” or “Mistress Pengelly,” as I wanted to—thinking “Jane” too familiar, especially when applied by a youngster like myself to a middle-aged woman.

No, she would not hear of my addressing her otherwise than by her Christian name.

“If you calls me Missis anything, dearie, mind if I don’t speak to you always as ‘Master Leigh’—that distant as how you won’t know me,” she said; so, as she always said what she meant, I did as she wished, and she continued to style me her “dearie,” that being the affectionate pet name she had for me, in the same way as her brother Sam had dubbed me his “cockbird,” when he first introduced himself to me on the Hoe, a mode of address which he still persisted in.

I may add, by the way, to make an end of these explanations, that Jane Pengelly had married her first cousin on the father’s side, as the matter was once elaborately made plain to me; consequently, she was not compelled, as most ladies are, to “change her name” when she wedded Teddy’s sire, and still retained after marriage her ancestral patronymic—which was sometimes sported with such unction by her brother, when laying down the law and giving a decided opinion.

Partings are sad things, and the sooner they are over the better. So Sam thought too, no doubt, for he presently hailed us both to come down-stairs, as time was up, and a man besides waiting with a hand-truck to trundle my chest down to the quay in the Cattwater, off which Sam’s little schooner was lying.

Thereupon, Jane giving me a final hug, my chest was bundled below in a brace of shakes, and Sam and I, accompanied by the man wheeling the truck, were on our way down the Stoke Road towards Plymouth—a lingering glance which I cast behind, in order to give a farewell wave of the hand to my second mother, imprinting on my memory every detail of the little cottage, with its clematis-covered porch, and the bright scarlet geraniums and fuchsias in full bloom in front, and Jane Pengelly’s tearful face standing out amidst the flowers, crying out a last loving “good-bye!”

We reached the schooner in good time so as to fetch out of the Sound before the tide ebbed, and, after clearing the breakwater, as the wind was to the northward of east, Sam made a short board on the port tack towards the Eddystone, in order to catch the western stream—which begins to run down Channel an hour after the flood, when about six miles out or so from the land, the current inshore setting up eastwards towards the Start and being against us if we tried to stem it by proceeding at once on our true course.

When we had got into the stream, however, and thus had the advantage of having the tideway with us, Sam let the schooner’s head fall off; and so, wearing her round, he shaped a straight course for the Lizard, almost in the line of a crow’s flight, bringing the wind nearly right aft to us now on the starboard tack as we ran before it. We passed abreast of the goggle-eyed lighthouse on the point which marks the landfall for most mariners when returning to the English Channel after a foreign voyage, close on to midnight—not a bad run from Plymouth Sound, which we had left at four o’clock in the afternoon.

It was a beautiful bright moonlight night, the sea being lighted up like a burnished mirror, and the clear orb making the distant background of the Cornish coast come out in relief, far away on our western bow. The wind being still fair for us, keeping to the east-nor’-east, Sam brought it more abeam, bearing up so that he might pass between the Wolf Rock and the Land’s End, striking across the bight made by Mount’s Bay in order to save the way we would have lost if he had taken the inshore track, like most coasters—and, indeed, as he would have been obliged to do if it had been foggy or rough, which, fortunately for us, it wasn’t.

By sunrise next morning we had fetched within a couple of miles of the Longships; when, bracing round the schooner’s topsail yard and sailing close-hauled, with the wind nearly on our bow, we ran for Lundy Island in the British Channel.

I never saw any little craft behave better than the schooner did now, sailing on a bowline being her best point of speed, as is the case with most fore and aft rigged vessels. She almost “ate into the wind’s eye;” and, although the distance was over a hundred miles from the Longships, she was up to Lundy by nightfall, on this, the second day after leaving home.

From this point, however, we had to beat up all the way to Cardiff, as the easterly wind was blowing straight down the Bristol Channel, and consequently dead in our teeth, as soon as we began to bear up. It was a case of tack and tack about—first a long leg over to the Mumbles on the starboard tack, followed by a corresponding reach towards Dunkery Beacon on the port hand; backwards and forwards, see-saw, turn and turn about, until, finally, we rounded Penarth Heads, arriving at our destination on the afternoon of our fourth day from Plymouth.

We got to Cardiff none too early, either.

TheEsmeraldahaving completed loading in her cargo sooner than the owners had expected, had cast-off from the jetty and was now lying in the stream off the harbour. She was quite ready to start on her voyage, and seemed longing to be on the move, for her topsails were hanging loose and the courses were in the brails, so that they could be let fall and sheeted home at a moment’s notice.

We could see this for ourselves, as we rounded close under the vessel’s stern when running into the harbour; and further particulars of the ship’s readiness to set sail we learnt at the agent’s ashore, with whom Sam Pengelly had been in communication for some time, unknown to me, with reference to having me articled as a first-class apprentice in one of their best ships. The good-hearted fellow, too, without my knowledge, although I learnt this later on, had entered into an agreement to pay a good round sum as a premium for me in order that I might have accommodation aft and mess with the officers.

Sam enlightened me about some of these particulars, mentioning the arrangements he had made for my comfort, while we were making our trip round to the Bristol Channel in the schooner, our departure from the cottage having been too hurried for me to gain any information on the point, save the great fact of my being about to go to sea at last. The reason for the delay in this, Sam now explained to me, was on account of the absence of theEsmeraldaon a long round voyage to the China seas and back, my worthy old friend having picked that vessel out from amongst the many that had put into Plymouth since I had been with him, and which he had overhauled for the special purpose in view, because of her staunch sailing qualities and the clipper-like cut of her lines, besides his personal knowledge that she was “commanded by a skipper as knew how to handle a shep,” as he said, “so as a b’y might expect to larn somethin’ under him,” and he had therefore set his heart on my going in her.

We had not now been long at the agent’s, from the windows of whose small office we could see the barque riding at her moorings, before this identical gentleman came bustling in as if in a most desperate hurry.

“Why, here he is!” ejaculated Sam aside to me as he entered, saying to the other as he took off his cap with one hand and shoved out his other fist in greeting, “Sarvent, sir, Cap’en Billings; how d’ye find yourself since we last met in Plymouth Sound?”

“Oh, is that you, Pengelly?” responded the skipper of theEsmeraldacordially, accepting Sam’s proffered hand and shaking it heartily, “I was just thinking of you and your boy—have you brought him with you?”

“Aye, there’s the b’y,” replied Sam, pushing me forward affectionately, “and a right good straight up and down youngster you’ll find him, Cap’en Billings, with all the makings of a sailor in him, I tell you, sure’s my name’s Sam Pengelly!”

“Well, I’ll take your word for that,” laughed the other.

He seemed to me at first sight a genial good-tempered man—with rough reddish hair and beard, and a pair of merry twinkling blue eyes; but I could also see, from a quick sharp look he threw over me, reckoning me up from top to toe, that he’d all his wits about him and was used to command.

He looked like one of those sort of fellows that wouldn’t be trifled with when roused.

“I’m glad to see you, Leigh, and have you with me,” he said to me, affably—although he didn’t offer to shake hands, some distance lying between the position of a skipper and an apprentice. “You’re lucky to be just in time, though, for we’re all ready to sail as soon as the tide serves for us to cross the outer bar and be off. Got all the papers ready, Mr Tompkins?”

“Yes, captain,” replied the agent. “Here they are; Leigh and Mr Pengelly have just signed them.”

“All right then. If you’ll come along with me over to the Marine Superintendent’s office,” said Captain Billings, to us two, “we’ll have the signatures witnessed to these indenture articles; and then the thing’ll be all settled, and the boy can come aboard at once.”

“Heave ahead, my hearty,” replied Sam. “We’re both ready and willing;” and thereupon we all adjourned to the presence of the responsible official of the port entrusted with the supervision of all matters connected with the mercantile marine, in whose presence I was formally bound apprentice to the captain of theEsmeralda.

These preliminaries duly arranged, Sam Pengelly had some further dealings of a private nature with the captain and agent, in which the chinking of gold coin had apparently a good deal to do; and then he and I, at the skipper’s invitation, taking our seats in a boat that was lying by the side of the jetty started off for theEsmeralda, whither Sam had previously directed one of the schooner’s men to have my sea-chest removed while we went on to the agent’s.

Really, I could not explain the mingled feelings of hope, joy, pride, and satisfaction, that had filled my breast at the thought that I was really going to sea, and having the darling wish of my heart at last gratified—my contentment much increased by my overhearing a whispered comment of my new captain to Sam Pengelly, that I “wasn’t a pigeon-toed landsman, thank goodness!” He said he could see that from the manner in which I put my feet on the side cleats, as I got out of the boat and swung myself up to the gangway.

“Now at length,” thought I, speaking of myself in Sam’s fashion, as if I were some other person—“Martin Leigh you are going afloat at last!”

And, although I was only an humble reefer in the merchant service, whose spick-and-span uniform of blue serge and gold-banded cap had never yet smelt salt water to christen them, I felt as proud on first stepping “on board theEsmeralda” as Nelson must have done, when standing on the quarter-deck of theVictoryand seeing her close with the Spanish fleet immediately after his famous signal was displayed—“England expects every man this day to do his duty!”

Chapter Twelve.Making “Westing.”She was a fine-looking barque—as Sam had explained to me beforehand, when first telling me the news of his having secured a berth for me aboard her—with a good forecastle and clean run of deck aft to the poop, saving a small deck-house amidships, on a line with the cook’s caboose, where were the separate cabins devoted to the use of the boatswain and carpenter.Captain Billings showed us over her, pointing out the special arrangements for the comfort of his officers; and then, much to my surprise, and to that of Sam as well, for that matter, although he had stipulated for good treatment on my behalf, the skipper said that I could have an empty bunk to myself, alongside of the boatswain’s quarters.It was almost too good to be true!“Why, laddie, you’ll be a blessed sight better off than if you were a middy aboard a man o’ war!” said Sam, exultantly; but, whilst he was engaged showing me how to put my chest and stow my things, so as to be easily within reach and yet out of the way, in order not to encroach on the limited space at my command, our attention was drawn away from the consideration of such personal matters by the loud hail of Captain Billings ringing through the ship fore and aft—“All hands, make sail!”The pilot had come off from shore in the same boat with us; and, as the only thing theEsmeraldahad been awaiting was the water to rise sufficiently for her to cross the bar, Cardiff being a tidal harbour, now that it was approaching the flood, it was time to make ready for a start. We were going to make a move “while the day was yet young,” so to speak, for it was only about five o’clock yet in the afternoon.On hearing the skipper’s cry, Sam and I at once made our way aft up the ladder on to the poop, where Captain Billings was standing, shouting out his orders, according to the directions of the pilot standing beside him—that gentleman, while in charge, being commanding officer, having the precedence of a captain even on board his own ship!I was all eagerness to assist, and anxious to enter on my duties; but the skipper motioned me aside, saying that he’d put me into a watch and give me regular work to do as soon as we had got fairly to sea, for he “didn’t want any idlers hanging round them to encumber the men.” So, acting on the principle that “a nod was as good as a wink to a blind horse,” I sheered over to the other side of the deck. Here, Sam Pengelly was standing by the taffrail, and from this coign of vantage we both watched with much interest the operation of getting the ship under weigh.The vessel’s topsails, as I have mentioned before, were already cast loose from the gaskets and her courses hung in the brails, while she was lying in the stream, heading almost due south and facing the entrance of the harbour, into which the tide was still running and, consequently, keeping her cable as taut as a fiddle-string; but now, on the captain’s command causing the hands to man the topsail halliards and run up the yards to the mast-head, the ponderous folds of canvas expanded with the wind, which was still to the nor’-east and blowing from aft, and the ship, in spite of the incoming tide, surged up to her anchor, bringing it right under her fore foot, thus slackening the strain on the cable.Another party of the crew, meanwhile, under the superintendence of the boatswain, had manned the windlass, bringing in the cable slack with a “slip-slap” and “click-clack” of the pall, as the winch went round, the moment the skipper’s warning cry, “Hands up anchor,” was heard from aft.“Hove short, sir,” then sang out the boatswain.“Up with it, then, men,” returned the skipper; and in another minute, for we were only in some six-fathom water, the anchor-stock showed itself above the surface and was run up to the cathead.Now, free from the ground, the bows of the vessel began to rise and fall as she curtsied politely to the stream, which was just on the turn, preparing to bid adieu to Cardiff harbour; so, Captain Billings himself jumped from where he had been standing, by the pilot’s side, to the wheel, making the spokes rapidly fly round until the helm was hard up, putting the ship before the wind and steering towards the mouth of the harbour ahead.“Sheet home!” was the next order; and, with a “yo-heave-ho,” the clews of the topsails were hauled out to the end of the yards, while the clewgarnet blocks rattled as the main sheet was brought aft; then, the yards were braced round a bit to the starboard and the vessel headed out into the Channel, with the wind on her quarter, on the port tack.“Hoist away the jib!” shouted out Captain Billings, on this much being achieved; when theEsmeraldabegan to gather way, the bubbles now floating past astern as she commenced to move through the water—at first slowly, and then with more speed, as the sails, already set, filled and drew.“Look smart there, men, and run away with those halliards,” echoed the mate, repeating the captain’s order anent the jib; and theEsmeralda, being now well under control of her helm, a picked hand came aft to take Captain Billings’ place at the wheel, of which he had retained charge until now, while another man was put in the main chains with the lead, heaving it at intervals and chanting out the soundings in a monotonous sing-song drawl of “By the mark, four,” and so on, until we reached six-fathom water, and then “The deep nine!”All this time we had been heading over to the Somersetshire shore; but when we were a couple of miles or so out from Cardiff, the pilot told the skipper that it was time to come about, as we had got into the proper fairway of the Channel and our course now should be west instead of south.Captain Billings didn’t need a second hint as to what he should do.“Hands ’bout ship!” he roared out the instant the pilot had spoken, the mate and boatswain repeating as before the order after him in turn, and the man at the wheel putting down the helm instanter.“Helm’s a lee!” shouted the skipper, the head sheets being let go as he spoke, and the jib flattened on the vessel going into stays.“Raise tacks and sheets!” and the fore-tack and main sheets were cast-off, while the weather main brace was hauled taut.“Mainsail haul!” was the next order; when, on the heavy yard swinging round, theEsmeraldacame up to the wind slowly, as if casting a long, lingering farewell look at the Welsh coast, in deep regret at leaving it.The head yards were then braced round, the fore-tack boarded, and the mainsheet hauled aft; after which the spanker was set, and the men sent aloft to loosen the topgallant sails, the yards of which had been crossed while we were still at anchor, so as to be ready when wanted. The ship then filled away again on the port tack, starting off with renewed speed, in a due west direction now, down the Bristol Channel, with the wind, which was on her beam, blowing at the rate of about an eight-knot breeze.“We’ve made a good start, Pengelly,” said Captain Billings, coming up to where we were still standing, rubbing his hands cheerfully together and seemingly much at ease now that we were well under way. “It isn’t often one gets a nor’-east wind at this time of year, hereabouts, and when we do chance upon it, why, there’s no use in wasting it.”“Sartinly not, Cap’en Billings,” responded Sam; “them’s jest my sentiments! I suppose as you’ll be a’most out of the Channel by mornin’, if the wind holds?”“Aye, we ought to be off Ilfracombe soon after sunrise, the pilot says. Will you like to go ashore when we drop him there, eh?”“That’ll do nicely, Cap’en,” replied Sam. “I only jest wanted for to see the last of the b’y, and I s’pected as how you’d land your pilot thereabout or at Bideford, where I told the man in charge o’ my schooner to call in for me; but it don’t matter much where I get ashore.”“All right then,” said Captain Billings; “so, now, as the ship’s going on at a spanking rate, with no danger ahead and in charge of the pilot, suppose you and the lad come down to the cabin along with me and have a bit of something to eat, for it’s getting late? I dare say the steward’ll find us some grub somewhere, though it’s rather early in the voyage for regular meals.”So saying, the skipper dived down the poop ladder, we two after him, when we found a well-spread table below, the sight of which pleased Sam as much as the appearance of my bunk—although, mind you, only on account of his interest in me, as there wasn’t a bit of the gourmand about him.“See, my laddie,” said he, nudging me, and speaking in a whisper. “The cap’en ain’t a going to starve you!”When we got on deck again, after a hearty meal, the sun had set and the evening was closing in; but, it was bright and clear overhead and the twinkling Nash lights, two white and one red, by Saint Donat’s Castle, were well away to windward on the starboard hand.Although there was no necessity whatever for my keeping up, I was too much excited to turn in, even for the purpose of seeing how snug my new quarters were; so, Sam keeping me company, in order to have as much of me as he could—for the time was now approaching for our parting—he and I paced the poop all night, talking of all sorts of things, and planning out a wonderful future when I should be captain of a ship of my own.Early in the morning watch, the wind lulled down to a gentle breeze, as it frequently does in summer before sunrise. This checked the ship’s rate of speed through the water considerably, so staying our progress that, instead of our arriving off Ilfracombe close on to daylight, as Captain Billings had sanguinely reckoned, it was long past eight bells and the hour of breakfast, to which we were both again invited into the cabin, before we neared the headland marking the bay sufficiently for us to heave to and signal for the pilot’s boat to come off and fetch him.We were not long detained, however.Hardly had theEsmeralda’smain-topsail been backed, ere a smart little cutter came sailing out towards us, with the familiar “P” and her number displayed on her spanker; so Sam hastened to bid his last farewell to me, making ready to accompany the pilot ashore.“Good-bye, my cockbird,” said he, wringing my hand with a grip that made it wince again, a tremble the while in his voice and something suspiciously like a tear in his eye. “Keep honest, and do your duty, and never forget your father, laddie, nor old Sam Pengelly, who’ll be right glad to see you again when you return from this v’yage!”“Good-bye, and God reward you, Sam, for all your kindness to me,” I returned, almost breaking down, and having to exercise all my self-command in order not to make an exhibition of myself before my new shipmates. “I’ll be certain to come and see you and Jane the moment I touch English ground again.”“All right, my hearty, fare thee well,” said he, stepping into the boat of the pilot after that worthy, while theEsmeralda’ssails were let fill again on the vessel resuming her course down the Bristol Channel; but, as I bent over the taffrail, and waved my hand to Sam for the last time, I could hear his parting hail in the distance, sounding as loud almost as if he were alongside.“Good-bye, my laddie, and good luck to theEsmeraldaon her v’yage. Cap’en Billings, remember the b’y!”“Aye, aye, my hearty, so I will,” shouted out the skipper, cordially. “Good luck to you, Pengelly!” and then the pilot made in for the land, and the ship’s yards were squared. The royals were soon afterwards sent aloft, the wind having sprung up again steadily, still from the nor’-east, as the tide began to make, and we ran now before it, almost sailing free, so as to pass to the southwards of Lundy Island and weather Hartland Point, on our way out into the open sea.Captain Billings, seeing the wind so favourable, instead of hugging the land, determined to make all the westing he could at this the very outset of our voyage, in order to avoid the cross currents hanging about the chops of the Channel, and off the Scilly Isles—which frequently, when aided by the contrary winds they engender, drive a ship on to the French coast, and into the Bay of Biscay, thus entailing a lot of beating up to the northwards again to gain a proper westerly course.Under these circumstances, therefore, my skipper, who I could see thus early “had his head,” as they say, “screwed on straight,” taking his point of departure from Lundy, and so bidding farewell to the land which he didn’t intend approaching again for the next few weeks if he could help it, kept a straight course by the compass due west for twenty-four hours, by the end of which time, and this was about noon on our second day out, we had cleared the Scilly Islands, passing some twenty leagues to the northward of the Bishop’s Rock. We were now well in with the Atlantic Ocean, and pursued the same direction, right before the wind, until we reached the meridian of 12 degrees 15 minutes West, when we hauled round more to the southwards, shaping a course to take us well to the westward of Madeira.Before this, however—that is, on our first day out, shortly after we had cleared Lundy Island, and when Sam and the pilot and his cutter were out of sight, and the ship clear of “strangers”—Captain Billings called a muster of all hands aft, when he divided the crew into two watches, officered respectively by the first and second mates.The “complement,” as they say in the Royal Navy, of theEsmeralda, I may as well state here, consisted of the skipper, Captain Billings; the two mates, one occupying the proud position of “chief of the staff,” and the other being merely an executive officer of little superior grade to one of the foremast hands; a boatswain, carpenter, sail-maker, cook, steward, and eighteen regular crew—the vessel, on account of her being barque-rigged, not requiring such a number of men in proportion to her tonnage as would have been necessary if she had been fitted as a ship, with yards and squaresails on the mizen-mast.When apportioning out the hands to their several officers, Captain Billings assigned me to the starboard watch, under charge of the second mate, telling the boatswain at the same time to “keep an eye upon me,” so as to have me thoroughly initiated into the practical part of my profession.I had not observed this latter individual previously, he having been employed forwards while I had been mostly on the poop ever since I had come on board the ship; now, however, that the skipper thus specially entrusted me to his care, I looked across the deck, when I noticed that his face seemed strangely familiar to me, although I could not exactly say how and where I had seen him before, although I puzzled my head in vain to guess who he was.But, my quandary did not last very long; for, on Captain Billings dismissing the men after the full-dress parade he had held on the quarter-deck, the boatswain came up to me with a genial grin on his hairy face.“Hullo, Master Leigh,” said he, “Who’d a’ thought of us two meeting ag’in like this?”

She was a fine-looking barque—as Sam had explained to me beforehand, when first telling me the news of his having secured a berth for me aboard her—with a good forecastle and clean run of deck aft to the poop, saving a small deck-house amidships, on a line with the cook’s caboose, where were the separate cabins devoted to the use of the boatswain and carpenter.

Captain Billings showed us over her, pointing out the special arrangements for the comfort of his officers; and then, much to my surprise, and to that of Sam as well, for that matter, although he had stipulated for good treatment on my behalf, the skipper said that I could have an empty bunk to myself, alongside of the boatswain’s quarters.

It was almost too good to be true!

“Why, laddie, you’ll be a blessed sight better off than if you were a middy aboard a man o’ war!” said Sam, exultantly; but, whilst he was engaged showing me how to put my chest and stow my things, so as to be easily within reach and yet out of the way, in order not to encroach on the limited space at my command, our attention was drawn away from the consideration of such personal matters by the loud hail of Captain Billings ringing through the ship fore and aft—

“All hands, make sail!”

The pilot had come off from shore in the same boat with us; and, as the only thing theEsmeraldahad been awaiting was the water to rise sufficiently for her to cross the bar, Cardiff being a tidal harbour, now that it was approaching the flood, it was time to make ready for a start. We were going to make a move “while the day was yet young,” so to speak, for it was only about five o’clock yet in the afternoon.

On hearing the skipper’s cry, Sam and I at once made our way aft up the ladder on to the poop, where Captain Billings was standing, shouting out his orders, according to the directions of the pilot standing beside him—that gentleman, while in charge, being commanding officer, having the precedence of a captain even on board his own ship!

I was all eagerness to assist, and anxious to enter on my duties; but the skipper motioned me aside, saying that he’d put me into a watch and give me regular work to do as soon as we had got fairly to sea, for he “didn’t want any idlers hanging round them to encumber the men.” So, acting on the principle that “a nod was as good as a wink to a blind horse,” I sheered over to the other side of the deck. Here, Sam Pengelly was standing by the taffrail, and from this coign of vantage we both watched with much interest the operation of getting the ship under weigh.

The vessel’s topsails, as I have mentioned before, were already cast loose from the gaskets and her courses hung in the brails, while she was lying in the stream, heading almost due south and facing the entrance of the harbour, into which the tide was still running and, consequently, keeping her cable as taut as a fiddle-string; but now, on the captain’s command causing the hands to man the topsail halliards and run up the yards to the mast-head, the ponderous folds of canvas expanded with the wind, which was still to the nor’-east and blowing from aft, and the ship, in spite of the incoming tide, surged up to her anchor, bringing it right under her fore foot, thus slackening the strain on the cable.

Another party of the crew, meanwhile, under the superintendence of the boatswain, had manned the windlass, bringing in the cable slack with a “slip-slap” and “click-clack” of the pall, as the winch went round, the moment the skipper’s warning cry, “Hands up anchor,” was heard from aft.

“Hove short, sir,” then sang out the boatswain.

“Up with it, then, men,” returned the skipper; and in another minute, for we were only in some six-fathom water, the anchor-stock showed itself above the surface and was run up to the cathead.

Now, free from the ground, the bows of the vessel began to rise and fall as she curtsied politely to the stream, which was just on the turn, preparing to bid adieu to Cardiff harbour; so, Captain Billings himself jumped from where he had been standing, by the pilot’s side, to the wheel, making the spokes rapidly fly round until the helm was hard up, putting the ship before the wind and steering towards the mouth of the harbour ahead.

“Sheet home!” was the next order; and, with a “yo-heave-ho,” the clews of the topsails were hauled out to the end of the yards, while the clewgarnet blocks rattled as the main sheet was brought aft; then, the yards were braced round a bit to the starboard and the vessel headed out into the Channel, with the wind on her quarter, on the port tack.

“Hoist away the jib!” shouted out Captain Billings, on this much being achieved; when theEsmeraldabegan to gather way, the bubbles now floating past astern as she commenced to move through the water—at first slowly, and then with more speed, as the sails, already set, filled and drew.

“Look smart there, men, and run away with those halliards,” echoed the mate, repeating the captain’s order anent the jib; and theEsmeralda, being now well under control of her helm, a picked hand came aft to take Captain Billings’ place at the wheel, of which he had retained charge until now, while another man was put in the main chains with the lead, heaving it at intervals and chanting out the soundings in a monotonous sing-song drawl of “By the mark, four,” and so on, until we reached six-fathom water, and then “The deep nine!”

All this time we had been heading over to the Somersetshire shore; but when we were a couple of miles or so out from Cardiff, the pilot told the skipper that it was time to come about, as we had got into the proper fairway of the Channel and our course now should be west instead of south.

Captain Billings didn’t need a second hint as to what he should do.

“Hands ’bout ship!” he roared out the instant the pilot had spoken, the mate and boatswain repeating as before the order after him in turn, and the man at the wheel putting down the helm instanter.

“Helm’s a lee!” shouted the skipper, the head sheets being let go as he spoke, and the jib flattened on the vessel going into stays.

“Raise tacks and sheets!” and the fore-tack and main sheets were cast-off, while the weather main brace was hauled taut.

“Mainsail haul!” was the next order; when, on the heavy yard swinging round, theEsmeraldacame up to the wind slowly, as if casting a long, lingering farewell look at the Welsh coast, in deep regret at leaving it.

The head yards were then braced round, the fore-tack boarded, and the mainsheet hauled aft; after which the spanker was set, and the men sent aloft to loosen the topgallant sails, the yards of which had been crossed while we were still at anchor, so as to be ready when wanted. The ship then filled away again on the port tack, starting off with renewed speed, in a due west direction now, down the Bristol Channel, with the wind, which was on her beam, blowing at the rate of about an eight-knot breeze.

“We’ve made a good start, Pengelly,” said Captain Billings, coming up to where we were still standing, rubbing his hands cheerfully together and seemingly much at ease now that we were well under way. “It isn’t often one gets a nor’-east wind at this time of year, hereabouts, and when we do chance upon it, why, there’s no use in wasting it.”

“Sartinly not, Cap’en Billings,” responded Sam; “them’s jest my sentiments! I suppose as you’ll be a’most out of the Channel by mornin’, if the wind holds?”

“Aye, we ought to be off Ilfracombe soon after sunrise, the pilot says. Will you like to go ashore when we drop him there, eh?”

“That’ll do nicely, Cap’en,” replied Sam. “I only jest wanted for to see the last of the b’y, and I s’pected as how you’d land your pilot thereabout or at Bideford, where I told the man in charge o’ my schooner to call in for me; but it don’t matter much where I get ashore.”

“All right then,” said Captain Billings; “so, now, as the ship’s going on at a spanking rate, with no danger ahead and in charge of the pilot, suppose you and the lad come down to the cabin along with me and have a bit of something to eat, for it’s getting late? I dare say the steward’ll find us some grub somewhere, though it’s rather early in the voyage for regular meals.”

So saying, the skipper dived down the poop ladder, we two after him, when we found a well-spread table below, the sight of which pleased Sam as much as the appearance of my bunk—although, mind you, only on account of his interest in me, as there wasn’t a bit of the gourmand about him.

“See, my laddie,” said he, nudging me, and speaking in a whisper. “The cap’en ain’t a going to starve you!”

When we got on deck again, after a hearty meal, the sun had set and the evening was closing in; but, it was bright and clear overhead and the twinkling Nash lights, two white and one red, by Saint Donat’s Castle, were well away to windward on the starboard hand.

Although there was no necessity whatever for my keeping up, I was too much excited to turn in, even for the purpose of seeing how snug my new quarters were; so, Sam keeping me company, in order to have as much of me as he could—for the time was now approaching for our parting—he and I paced the poop all night, talking of all sorts of things, and planning out a wonderful future when I should be captain of a ship of my own.

Early in the morning watch, the wind lulled down to a gentle breeze, as it frequently does in summer before sunrise. This checked the ship’s rate of speed through the water considerably, so staying our progress that, instead of our arriving off Ilfracombe close on to daylight, as Captain Billings had sanguinely reckoned, it was long past eight bells and the hour of breakfast, to which we were both again invited into the cabin, before we neared the headland marking the bay sufficiently for us to heave to and signal for the pilot’s boat to come off and fetch him.

We were not long detained, however.

Hardly had theEsmeralda’smain-topsail been backed, ere a smart little cutter came sailing out towards us, with the familiar “P” and her number displayed on her spanker; so Sam hastened to bid his last farewell to me, making ready to accompany the pilot ashore.

“Good-bye, my cockbird,” said he, wringing my hand with a grip that made it wince again, a tremble the while in his voice and something suspiciously like a tear in his eye. “Keep honest, and do your duty, and never forget your father, laddie, nor old Sam Pengelly, who’ll be right glad to see you again when you return from this v’yage!”

“Good-bye, and God reward you, Sam, for all your kindness to me,” I returned, almost breaking down, and having to exercise all my self-command in order not to make an exhibition of myself before my new shipmates. “I’ll be certain to come and see you and Jane the moment I touch English ground again.”

“All right, my hearty, fare thee well,” said he, stepping into the boat of the pilot after that worthy, while theEsmeralda’ssails were let fill again on the vessel resuming her course down the Bristol Channel; but, as I bent over the taffrail, and waved my hand to Sam for the last time, I could hear his parting hail in the distance, sounding as loud almost as if he were alongside.

“Good-bye, my laddie, and good luck to theEsmeraldaon her v’yage. Cap’en Billings, remember the b’y!”

“Aye, aye, my hearty, so I will,” shouted out the skipper, cordially. “Good luck to you, Pengelly!” and then the pilot made in for the land, and the ship’s yards were squared. The royals were soon afterwards sent aloft, the wind having sprung up again steadily, still from the nor’-east, as the tide began to make, and we ran now before it, almost sailing free, so as to pass to the southwards of Lundy Island and weather Hartland Point, on our way out into the open sea.

Captain Billings, seeing the wind so favourable, instead of hugging the land, determined to make all the westing he could at this the very outset of our voyage, in order to avoid the cross currents hanging about the chops of the Channel, and off the Scilly Isles—which frequently, when aided by the contrary winds they engender, drive a ship on to the French coast, and into the Bay of Biscay, thus entailing a lot of beating up to the northwards again to gain a proper westerly course.

Under these circumstances, therefore, my skipper, who I could see thus early “had his head,” as they say, “screwed on straight,” taking his point of departure from Lundy, and so bidding farewell to the land which he didn’t intend approaching again for the next few weeks if he could help it, kept a straight course by the compass due west for twenty-four hours, by the end of which time, and this was about noon on our second day out, we had cleared the Scilly Islands, passing some twenty leagues to the northward of the Bishop’s Rock. We were now well in with the Atlantic Ocean, and pursued the same direction, right before the wind, until we reached the meridian of 12 degrees 15 minutes West, when we hauled round more to the southwards, shaping a course to take us well to the westward of Madeira.

Before this, however—that is, on our first day out, shortly after we had cleared Lundy Island, and when Sam and the pilot and his cutter were out of sight, and the ship clear of “strangers”—Captain Billings called a muster of all hands aft, when he divided the crew into two watches, officered respectively by the first and second mates.

The “complement,” as they say in the Royal Navy, of theEsmeralda, I may as well state here, consisted of the skipper, Captain Billings; the two mates, one occupying the proud position of “chief of the staff,” and the other being merely an executive officer of little superior grade to one of the foremast hands; a boatswain, carpenter, sail-maker, cook, steward, and eighteen regular crew—the vessel, on account of her being barque-rigged, not requiring such a number of men in proportion to her tonnage as would have been necessary if she had been fitted as a ship, with yards and squaresails on the mizen-mast.

When apportioning out the hands to their several officers, Captain Billings assigned me to the starboard watch, under charge of the second mate, telling the boatswain at the same time to “keep an eye upon me,” so as to have me thoroughly initiated into the practical part of my profession.

I had not observed this latter individual previously, he having been employed forwards while I had been mostly on the poop ever since I had come on board the ship; now, however, that the skipper thus specially entrusted me to his care, I looked across the deck, when I noticed that his face seemed strangely familiar to me, although I could not exactly say how and where I had seen him before, although I puzzled my head in vain to guess who he was.

But, my quandary did not last very long; for, on Captain Billings dismissing the men after the full-dress parade he had held on the quarter-deck, the boatswain came up to me with a genial grin on his hairy face.

“Hullo, Master Leigh,” said he, “Who’d a’ thought of us two meeting ag’in like this?”

Chapter Thirteen.An Old Acquaintance.“What!” I exclaimed, in much amazement. “Is it really you, Jorrocks? I can hardly believe my eyes!”“Aye, aye, it’s me sure enough,” replied my old ally of theSaucy Sall, shaking hands with great heartiness, as if he were really glad to see me again under such altered circumstances. “It’s me sure enough, Master Leigh—that is, unless I’ve got some double of a twin brother, as like me as two peas, a-sailing round in these latitudes!”There could be no question of his identity after I had once heard the tones of his well-remembered voice; but the beard which he had allowed to grow since I had last seen him had so completely altered the expression of his face, or rather indeed its entire appearance, that there was some excuse for my not recognising him at the moment.Jorrocks, however, he was without doubt; and, I need hardly say that I was quite as much pleased at this unexpected meeting as he seemed to be—albeit the sight of him, when I realised the fact that it was really himself and heard his cheery familiar accents, brought back in an instant to my mind the scene on board the coal brig that eventful day when theSaucy Sall’ssurly skipper discovered that Tom and I had stolen a march on him, and treated us each to a dose of his sovereign specific for stowaways!“How is it, though, Jorrocks, that you’ve abandoned the brig?” I asked him presently, when we had got over our mutual surprise at thus meeting in such an unlooked-for fashion. “I thought you were a fixture there, and didn’t know you were a regular sailor—I mean one accustomed to sea-going ships like this?”I said this with much dignity, being greatly impressed with the responsibility of my new position; and I’m sure I must have spoken as if I were a post captain at least, addressing some subordinate officer!Jorrocks, however, took my patronage in good part, although I could detect a faint cock of his eye, denoting sly amusement at my ridiculous assumption of superiority. This he now proceeded to “take down a peg” in his roundabout way.“Why, bless you, Master Leigh, I sailed as able seaman in a China clipper afore you were born, and when I were that high!” he replied, laughing, putting his hand about a foot above the deck to illustrate his approximate stature at the period referred to, and representing himself to be at that time certainly a very diminutive son of Neptune.“You must have been very young, then,” said I, a little bit nettled at his remark—thinking it a slur on my nautical experience, so bran-new as that was!But Jorrocks went on as coolly as if I had not cast a doubt on the veracity of his statement concerning his early commencement of sailor life.“Aye, aye,” he answered, quite collectedly, “I grant I were young, but then you must rec’lect, my lad, I got the flavour o’ the sea early in a lighthouse tower, where I was born and brought up, my father having the lantern to mind; and, since then, I’ve v’y’ged a’most to every part you could mention, and shipped in a’most every kind of craft, from an East Indyman down to a Yarmouth hoy. Bless you! I only took to the coasting line two or three years ago, when you and I first ran foul of each other; and the reason for my doing that was in cons’quence of my getting spliced, and the missus wanting me to take a ’longshore berth. Howsomedevers, I couldn’t stand it long, being once used to a decent fo’c’s’le in a proper sort of vessel v’y’ging o’er the seas in true shipshape fashion; and so, I parted company with the brig and came aboard theEsmeraldaeighteen months ago come next July—a long spell for a sailor to stick to one ship without changing, but then Cap’en Billings ’s a good sort, and he made me boatswain o’ the craft last v’y’ge but one, so I hopes to remain with him longer still.”“You like him, then?” I said, tentatively, looking him straight in the face.“Oh, aye—first-class,” replied Jorrocks to my implied question, with much seriousness, “He’s not only a good skipper—as good as they make ’em, treating the hands as if they were men, and not dogs—but he’s a prime seaman, and knows what’s what in a gale, better nor most I’ve ever sailed with. Howsomedevers, he’ll stand no nonsense; and when he puts his foot down, you may as well give up, as you might sooner soft-sawder a trenail into a two-inch plank as get over him and shirk your duty! The old man, easy-going when you take him right, is as stiff as a porkypine when you runs foul of his hawse; so, you’d better not try on any o’ them pranks o’ yours you told me you and your messmate played off on your old schoolmaster, for Cap’en Billings has cut his eye teeth, my hearty.”“Why, I wouldn’t dream of such a thing,” I exclaimed, indignantly, “what Tom and I did to Dr Hellyer was quite different, and served him right for his cruelty.”“Aye, aye, that may be accordin’ to your notion,” said Jorrocks, sententiously; “but that schoolmaster were the skipper of his own ship, the same as Cap’en Billings is here aboard this here craft, and it ain’t right to trifle with them as is set in authority over us!”I can’t tell what I might have replied to this appropriate little sermon that Jorrocks delivered about the mischievous and dangerous trick that Tom and I conspired together to commit, and which I have often subsequently reflected might have led to the most disastrous consequences, and perhaps injured the Doctor for life; but, at that moment, Captain Billings, seeing my old friend and I chatting together, came over to leeward, where we were standing.“Hullo, boatswain!” he shouted out, “making friends with the youngster, eh?”“Why, bless you, Cap’en Billings,” answered Jorrocks, touching his cap, “he and I are old shipmates.”“Indeed! I had no idea of his having been at sea before,” said the skipper, apparently very much astonished at this news.“Oh, aye, sir, he has,” returned my old friend, glad to be able to put in a good word for me, as he thought, after the little lecture he had just given me. “He was on board a coal brig with me two years ago, a coasting craft that plied up along shore to Noocastle and back; and you’ll find him no green hand, Cap’, but a smart able chap, one that’ll get out to the weather earing when there’s a call to reef topsails sooner than many a full-grown seaman, for he knows his way up the rigging.”“I’m very glad to hear that,” said the skipper, turning to me, with an affable smile that lighted up his twinkling blue eyes. “When Sam Pengelly told me you were a capable lad, of course, I naturally took his opinion to proceed more from personal bias than practical comment on your seamanship; but, now that I learn from Jorrocks here, on more independent testimony, that you’re no novice on board ship and have already mastered the rough rudiments of your profession in the best way possible—that of having been before the mast as a regular hand—why, you’ll be able to get on all the faster, and be able to command the deck by-and-by on your own hook. How are you up in navigation, eh?”“I can take the sun, sir,” said I, modestly, not wishing to blow my own trumpet.“Anything else?”“Yes, sir, I can work out a reckoning, I believe,” I answered.“Ha, humph, pretty good! I’ll try you by-and-by, Leigh,” said Captain Billings, turning aside for the moment to order the port watch to give one extra pull to the weather braces—“mind and bring out your sextant when you see me on deck at eight bells. I suppose you’ve got one in your chest, eh?”“Oh yes, sir, Sam Pengelly gave me one,” I replied, and the skipper then went into the cabin while Jorrocks and I resumed our interrupted conversation.My old friend took advantage of the opportunity to put me up to a good many wrinkles concerning my fellow-shipmates.The mate, Mr Macdougall, who was a tall, hatchet-faced Scotsman, with high cheek-bones and a very prominent nose—Jorrocks told me, in confidence—was a tight-handed, close-fisted, cross-tempered man, ever fond of displaying his authority and working the hands to death, under the plea of preventing their idling or “hazing,” as he called it.“I advise you not to get into a row with him, Mister Leigh, if so as you can help it; ’cause, once a chap falls foul of him in any way, he neversomedevers by no chance forgets or forgives it, nohow.”“I shan’t give him the chance,” I answered to this, with a laugh. “I suppose he doesn’t think himself greater than the captain!”“Ah, you just wait a bit ’fore you decide that p’int. The first mate aboard a marchint ship is a sight more powerful than a judge on the bench, as you’ll find out! The skipper allers tells him what he wishes, and the mate sees to its being done, an’ it depends what sorter fellowheis, and not on the cap’en, as to how matters go on when a vessel’s at sea; for, it’s in his power for to make things pleasant like and all plain sailing, or else to cause the crew for to smell brimstone afore their time, I tell you! That Macdougall, now, though you laugh in that light-hearted way, ain’t to be trifled with, Mister Leigh, I warn you; and if you go for to raise his dander ag’in you, why, you won’t find it worth grinning at, that’s sartin, for he’s as nasty as he’s spiteful, and every man Jack of us hates him like pizen, and wishes he were out of the ship. The skipper, I knows, wouldn’t have him aboard if he could have his own way, but he’s some connection of the owners, and he can’t help himself.”“All right, Jorrocks, I’ll try and steer clear of him,” I said, trying to look grave, for I saw the old sailor was in earnest, and only speaking for my good. “I will endeavour to do my duty, and then he won’t have any occasion to find fault with me.”“Ah, but you’ll have to do more than that; for, like most of them uppish chaps, if you don’t truckle under to him and purtend as how he’s the Lord Mayor, he’s safe to be down on you.”“I’m not going to crawl under any man’s feet, first mate or no first mate!” I said, proudly. “Why, I’m a first-class apprentice, and the captain has rated me as third officer in the ship’s books.”“Now, Mister Leigh, don’t you go on for being bumptious, now, my lad!” replied Jorrocks, laughing heartily at my drawing myself up on my dignity. “A third officer or ‘third mate,’ as we calls him, has a dog’s berth aboard a ship if he doesn’t lend his hand to anything and button to the first mate! You needn’t go for to really humble yourself afore that Macdougall; I only meant you to purtend like as how you thinks him a regular top-sawyer, and then you’ll sail along without a chance of a squall—Mr Ohlsen, the second mate, in charge o’ your watch, is an easy-going chap, and you’ll get on well enough with him.”“All right,” I said in response, as if agreeing with his advice; but I formed my own resolution as to how I would treat the Scotsman should he try to bully me unjustly.He would find no cringe in me, I vowed!The rest of my shipmates, Jorrocks then went on to tell me, were a very jolly set of fellows, forming as good a crew as he’d ever sailed with—fit for anything, and all able seamen “of the proper sort.”Haxell, the carpenter, he said, was a quiet, steady-going, solemn sort of man, with no nonsense about him, who kept himself to himself; while Sails, the sail-maker, whom I have omitted mentioning in his proper place as one of the officers ranking after the boatswain, was a cheery chap, who could sing a good song on Saturday night in the fo’c’s’le; but, the life of the crew, Jorrocks said, was Pat Doolan, the cook, an Irishman, as his name would imply. He was always ready to crack a joke and “carry on” when there was any skylarking about, besides willing to lend a hand at any time on a pinch. Jorrocks told me “to mind and be good friends with Pat,” if it were only for the sake of the pannikin of hot coffee which it was in his power to dispense in the early morning when turning out on watch in the cold.“Ah, you were not born yesterday, Jorrocks!” I said, when he imparted this valuable bit of information to me, as one of the state secrets of the fo’c’s’le.“No, Mister Leigh,” he answered, with a meaning wink; “I’ve not been to sea, twenty year more or less, for nothing, I tell you.”The steward—to complete the list of those on board—was a flabby half-and-half sort of Welshman, hailing from Cardiff but brought up in London; and, as he was a close ally of the first mate, I need hardly say he was no favourite either of my friend Jorrocks, or with the crew generally—all the hands thinking that he skimped the provisions when serving them out, in deference to Mr Macdougall’s prejudices in the way of stinginess!TheEsmeralda, therefore, carried twenty-seven souls in all of living freight, including the skipper and my valuable self, besides her thousand tons of coal or so of cargo; we on board representing a little world within ourselves, with our interests identical so long as the voyage lasted.While Jorrocks and I were talking in the waist of the ship to leeward, I observed the first mate, Mr Macdougall—who had the forenoon watch, and was in charge of the vessel for the time—approach close to the break of the poop, and stop in his walk up and down the deck once or twice, as if he were on the point of hailing us to know what we were palavering about; but something seemed to change his intention, so he refrained from calling out, as I expected, although he glowered down on Jorrocks and I, with a frown on his freckly sandy-haired face, “as if he could eat us both up without salt,” as the boatswain said, on my pointing out the mate’s proximity.I believe Mr Macdougall took a dislike to me from the first; and the skipper’s apparent favour did not subsequently tend to make him appreciate me any the better, I could see later on.That very day, shortly before noon, when Captain Billings came out of his cabin with his sextant, and found me all ready for him with mine, in obedience to his order, I heard Mr Macdougall utter a covert sneer behind the skipper’s back respecting me.“Hoot, mon,” he said aside to Ohlsen, the second mate—“Old son of a gun” as the men used to call him, making a sort of pun on his name—“the old man’s setting up as dominie to teach that bairn how to tak’ a sight, you ken; did you ever see the like? These be braw times when gentlefolk come to sea for schoolin’, and ship cap’ens have to tak’ to teachin’ ’em!”Ohlsen didn’t reply to this save by a grunt, which might have meant anything, but I was certain Macdougall was trying to turn me into ridicule.Captain Billings, however, did not overhear the remark; and proceeded to test my accuracy with the sextant, making me take the angle of the sun and that of the distant land on the port bow. He was delighted when, afterwards, I had worked out my calculations, based on the sight taken of the sun’s altitude, and, deducting the difference of the ship’s mean time from that observed, found out that our true position on the chart was very nearly 50 degrees 55 minutes 20 seconds North and 4 degrees 50 minutes 55 seconds West, or about ten miles to the south-west of Hartland Point on the Devonshire coast. It was all a labour of love, however, for the land was still within reach, and we had not long taken our “point of departure;” while soundings could still be had, if we wished, in thirty fathom water; so, there was no necessity for our taking an observation so early in the voyage. The skipper only did it to test my knowledge, and he was perfectly satisfied with the result apparently.“Why, Macdougall,” he said to the Scotsman, who was waiting by with an air of ill-concealed triumph on his face, hoping to hear of my failure to work out the reckoning, “he’s a better navigator than you are!”This, you may be certain, did not please the mate, who muttered something of it’s “all being done by guess work.”But the skipper wouldn’t have this at any price.“No, no, Macdougall,” he replied, quickly, “it’s all fair and square calculation, such as I couldn’t have managed at his age;” then, turning to me, he added, kindly, “you stick to it, my lad, and you’ll beat us all with the sextant before we get to Callao!”The captain desired me, also, to work out the ship’s reckoning each day and to keep a log, the same as the first mate had to do, which that individual resented as a sort of check exercised upon him, and hated me accordingly. As I afterwards found out, he was an extremely bad navigator, and ignorant of all the newest methods, such as Sumner’s, for shortening calculation, consequently, he was afraid of his errors being discovered too easily if his log should be compared every day with mine.Unaware of all these kindly feelings towards me, Captain Billings filled up the measure of Mr Macdougall’s wrath by inviting me to come into the cabin to dine with him that day at six bells, instead of waiting until the termination of Ohlsen’s watch, and go in with him to the “second table,” as it was termed, after the skipper and first mate had finished their repast—such being the etiquette in merchant ships.Macdougall almost boiled over with anger when he heard the skipper ask me. His freckled face looked just like a turkey’s egg—boiled!“Vara weel, vara weel, Cap’en Billings,” said he, with a mock deference that little disguised his rage: “but I’d ha’e you to know that I didn’t ship aboard here to mess wi’ ’prentice lads.”The skipper fired up in an instant, a light darting from his blue eyes which one would not have thought their liquid depths capable of.“And I would have you to know, Mr Macdougall,” he retorted, quickly, uttering every word, however, with distinct emphasis, “that I’m captain of my own ship, and shall ask whom I please to my table. Steward,” he added, calling out to that worthy, who was just sauntering by into the cabin from the cook’s galley with a covered dish in his hands, “lay a plate and knife and fork for Mr Leigh; and bear in mind that he dines with me every day when his duties allow!”“Aye, aye, sir,” replied Owen Williams, proceeding on into his pantry with his dish, and I followed the skipper into the cabin shortly afterwards.This was undoubtedly a blow to the mate, as I thought, sniggering over the little episode at the time; but, Mr Macdougall did not forget the fact of my having been the occasion of his getting a “dressing down” from the skipper, and he debited it carefully in his account against me, determining to pay me out for it on the first convenient opportunity—a resolution that was carried out quite soon enough for me, as you will presently learn!

“What!” I exclaimed, in much amazement. “Is it really you, Jorrocks? I can hardly believe my eyes!”

“Aye, aye, it’s me sure enough,” replied my old ally of theSaucy Sall, shaking hands with great heartiness, as if he were really glad to see me again under such altered circumstances. “It’s me sure enough, Master Leigh—that is, unless I’ve got some double of a twin brother, as like me as two peas, a-sailing round in these latitudes!”

There could be no question of his identity after I had once heard the tones of his well-remembered voice; but the beard which he had allowed to grow since I had last seen him had so completely altered the expression of his face, or rather indeed its entire appearance, that there was some excuse for my not recognising him at the moment.

Jorrocks, however, he was without doubt; and, I need hardly say that I was quite as much pleased at this unexpected meeting as he seemed to be—albeit the sight of him, when I realised the fact that it was really himself and heard his cheery familiar accents, brought back in an instant to my mind the scene on board the coal brig that eventful day when theSaucy Sall’ssurly skipper discovered that Tom and I had stolen a march on him, and treated us each to a dose of his sovereign specific for stowaways!

“How is it, though, Jorrocks, that you’ve abandoned the brig?” I asked him presently, when we had got over our mutual surprise at thus meeting in such an unlooked-for fashion. “I thought you were a fixture there, and didn’t know you were a regular sailor—I mean one accustomed to sea-going ships like this?”

I said this with much dignity, being greatly impressed with the responsibility of my new position; and I’m sure I must have spoken as if I were a post captain at least, addressing some subordinate officer!

Jorrocks, however, took my patronage in good part, although I could detect a faint cock of his eye, denoting sly amusement at my ridiculous assumption of superiority. This he now proceeded to “take down a peg” in his roundabout way.

“Why, bless you, Master Leigh, I sailed as able seaman in a China clipper afore you were born, and when I were that high!” he replied, laughing, putting his hand about a foot above the deck to illustrate his approximate stature at the period referred to, and representing himself to be at that time certainly a very diminutive son of Neptune.

“You must have been very young, then,” said I, a little bit nettled at his remark—thinking it a slur on my nautical experience, so bran-new as that was!

But Jorrocks went on as coolly as if I had not cast a doubt on the veracity of his statement concerning his early commencement of sailor life.

“Aye, aye,” he answered, quite collectedly, “I grant I were young, but then you must rec’lect, my lad, I got the flavour o’ the sea early in a lighthouse tower, where I was born and brought up, my father having the lantern to mind; and, since then, I’ve v’y’ged a’most to every part you could mention, and shipped in a’most every kind of craft, from an East Indyman down to a Yarmouth hoy. Bless you! I only took to the coasting line two or three years ago, when you and I first ran foul of each other; and the reason for my doing that was in cons’quence of my getting spliced, and the missus wanting me to take a ’longshore berth. Howsomedevers, I couldn’t stand it long, being once used to a decent fo’c’s’le in a proper sort of vessel v’y’ging o’er the seas in true shipshape fashion; and so, I parted company with the brig and came aboard theEsmeraldaeighteen months ago come next July—a long spell for a sailor to stick to one ship without changing, but then Cap’en Billings ’s a good sort, and he made me boatswain o’ the craft last v’y’ge but one, so I hopes to remain with him longer still.”

“You like him, then?” I said, tentatively, looking him straight in the face.

“Oh, aye—first-class,” replied Jorrocks to my implied question, with much seriousness, “He’s not only a good skipper—as good as they make ’em, treating the hands as if they were men, and not dogs—but he’s a prime seaman, and knows what’s what in a gale, better nor most I’ve ever sailed with. Howsomedevers, he’ll stand no nonsense; and when he puts his foot down, you may as well give up, as you might sooner soft-sawder a trenail into a two-inch plank as get over him and shirk your duty! The old man, easy-going when you take him right, is as stiff as a porkypine when you runs foul of his hawse; so, you’d better not try on any o’ them pranks o’ yours you told me you and your messmate played off on your old schoolmaster, for Cap’en Billings has cut his eye teeth, my hearty.”

“Why, I wouldn’t dream of such a thing,” I exclaimed, indignantly, “what Tom and I did to Dr Hellyer was quite different, and served him right for his cruelty.”

“Aye, aye, that may be accordin’ to your notion,” said Jorrocks, sententiously; “but that schoolmaster were the skipper of his own ship, the same as Cap’en Billings is here aboard this here craft, and it ain’t right to trifle with them as is set in authority over us!”

I can’t tell what I might have replied to this appropriate little sermon that Jorrocks delivered about the mischievous and dangerous trick that Tom and I conspired together to commit, and which I have often subsequently reflected might have led to the most disastrous consequences, and perhaps injured the Doctor for life; but, at that moment, Captain Billings, seeing my old friend and I chatting together, came over to leeward, where we were standing.

“Hullo, boatswain!” he shouted out, “making friends with the youngster, eh?”

“Why, bless you, Cap’en Billings,” answered Jorrocks, touching his cap, “he and I are old shipmates.”

“Indeed! I had no idea of his having been at sea before,” said the skipper, apparently very much astonished at this news.

“Oh, aye, sir, he has,” returned my old friend, glad to be able to put in a good word for me, as he thought, after the little lecture he had just given me. “He was on board a coal brig with me two years ago, a coasting craft that plied up along shore to Noocastle and back; and you’ll find him no green hand, Cap’, but a smart able chap, one that’ll get out to the weather earing when there’s a call to reef topsails sooner than many a full-grown seaman, for he knows his way up the rigging.”

“I’m very glad to hear that,” said the skipper, turning to me, with an affable smile that lighted up his twinkling blue eyes. “When Sam Pengelly told me you were a capable lad, of course, I naturally took his opinion to proceed more from personal bias than practical comment on your seamanship; but, now that I learn from Jorrocks here, on more independent testimony, that you’re no novice on board ship and have already mastered the rough rudiments of your profession in the best way possible—that of having been before the mast as a regular hand—why, you’ll be able to get on all the faster, and be able to command the deck by-and-by on your own hook. How are you up in navigation, eh?”

“I can take the sun, sir,” said I, modestly, not wishing to blow my own trumpet.

“Anything else?”

“Yes, sir, I can work out a reckoning, I believe,” I answered.

“Ha, humph, pretty good! I’ll try you by-and-by, Leigh,” said Captain Billings, turning aside for the moment to order the port watch to give one extra pull to the weather braces—“mind and bring out your sextant when you see me on deck at eight bells. I suppose you’ve got one in your chest, eh?”

“Oh yes, sir, Sam Pengelly gave me one,” I replied, and the skipper then went into the cabin while Jorrocks and I resumed our interrupted conversation.

My old friend took advantage of the opportunity to put me up to a good many wrinkles concerning my fellow-shipmates.

The mate, Mr Macdougall, who was a tall, hatchet-faced Scotsman, with high cheek-bones and a very prominent nose—Jorrocks told me, in confidence—was a tight-handed, close-fisted, cross-tempered man, ever fond of displaying his authority and working the hands to death, under the plea of preventing their idling or “hazing,” as he called it.

“I advise you not to get into a row with him, Mister Leigh, if so as you can help it; ’cause, once a chap falls foul of him in any way, he neversomedevers by no chance forgets or forgives it, nohow.”

“I shan’t give him the chance,” I answered to this, with a laugh. “I suppose he doesn’t think himself greater than the captain!”

“Ah, you just wait a bit ’fore you decide that p’int. The first mate aboard a marchint ship is a sight more powerful than a judge on the bench, as you’ll find out! The skipper allers tells him what he wishes, and the mate sees to its being done, an’ it depends what sorter fellowheis, and not on the cap’en, as to how matters go on when a vessel’s at sea; for, it’s in his power for to make things pleasant like and all plain sailing, or else to cause the crew for to smell brimstone afore their time, I tell you! That Macdougall, now, though you laugh in that light-hearted way, ain’t to be trifled with, Mister Leigh, I warn you; and if you go for to raise his dander ag’in you, why, you won’t find it worth grinning at, that’s sartin, for he’s as nasty as he’s spiteful, and every man Jack of us hates him like pizen, and wishes he were out of the ship. The skipper, I knows, wouldn’t have him aboard if he could have his own way, but he’s some connection of the owners, and he can’t help himself.”

“All right, Jorrocks, I’ll try and steer clear of him,” I said, trying to look grave, for I saw the old sailor was in earnest, and only speaking for my good. “I will endeavour to do my duty, and then he won’t have any occasion to find fault with me.”

“Ah, but you’ll have to do more than that; for, like most of them uppish chaps, if you don’t truckle under to him and purtend as how he’s the Lord Mayor, he’s safe to be down on you.”

“I’m not going to crawl under any man’s feet, first mate or no first mate!” I said, proudly. “Why, I’m a first-class apprentice, and the captain has rated me as third officer in the ship’s books.”

“Now, Mister Leigh, don’t you go on for being bumptious, now, my lad!” replied Jorrocks, laughing heartily at my drawing myself up on my dignity. “A third officer or ‘third mate,’ as we calls him, has a dog’s berth aboard a ship if he doesn’t lend his hand to anything and button to the first mate! You needn’t go for to really humble yourself afore that Macdougall; I only meant you to purtend like as how you thinks him a regular top-sawyer, and then you’ll sail along without a chance of a squall—Mr Ohlsen, the second mate, in charge o’ your watch, is an easy-going chap, and you’ll get on well enough with him.”

“All right,” I said in response, as if agreeing with his advice; but I formed my own resolution as to how I would treat the Scotsman should he try to bully me unjustly.

He would find no cringe in me, I vowed!

The rest of my shipmates, Jorrocks then went on to tell me, were a very jolly set of fellows, forming as good a crew as he’d ever sailed with—fit for anything, and all able seamen “of the proper sort.”

Haxell, the carpenter, he said, was a quiet, steady-going, solemn sort of man, with no nonsense about him, who kept himself to himself; while Sails, the sail-maker, whom I have omitted mentioning in his proper place as one of the officers ranking after the boatswain, was a cheery chap, who could sing a good song on Saturday night in the fo’c’s’le; but, the life of the crew, Jorrocks said, was Pat Doolan, the cook, an Irishman, as his name would imply. He was always ready to crack a joke and “carry on” when there was any skylarking about, besides willing to lend a hand at any time on a pinch. Jorrocks told me “to mind and be good friends with Pat,” if it were only for the sake of the pannikin of hot coffee which it was in his power to dispense in the early morning when turning out on watch in the cold.

“Ah, you were not born yesterday, Jorrocks!” I said, when he imparted this valuable bit of information to me, as one of the state secrets of the fo’c’s’le.

“No, Mister Leigh,” he answered, with a meaning wink; “I’ve not been to sea, twenty year more or less, for nothing, I tell you.”

The steward—to complete the list of those on board—was a flabby half-and-half sort of Welshman, hailing from Cardiff but brought up in London; and, as he was a close ally of the first mate, I need hardly say he was no favourite either of my friend Jorrocks, or with the crew generally—all the hands thinking that he skimped the provisions when serving them out, in deference to Mr Macdougall’s prejudices in the way of stinginess!

TheEsmeralda, therefore, carried twenty-seven souls in all of living freight, including the skipper and my valuable self, besides her thousand tons of coal or so of cargo; we on board representing a little world within ourselves, with our interests identical so long as the voyage lasted.

While Jorrocks and I were talking in the waist of the ship to leeward, I observed the first mate, Mr Macdougall—who had the forenoon watch, and was in charge of the vessel for the time—approach close to the break of the poop, and stop in his walk up and down the deck once or twice, as if he were on the point of hailing us to know what we were palavering about; but something seemed to change his intention, so he refrained from calling out, as I expected, although he glowered down on Jorrocks and I, with a frown on his freckly sandy-haired face, “as if he could eat us both up without salt,” as the boatswain said, on my pointing out the mate’s proximity.

I believe Mr Macdougall took a dislike to me from the first; and the skipper’s apparent favour did not subsequently tend to make him appreciate me any the better, I could see later on.

That very day, shortly before noon, when Captain Billings came out of his cabin with his sextant, and found me all ready for him with mine, in obedience to his order, I heard Mr Macdougall utter a covert sneer behind the skipper’s back respecting me.

“Hoot, mon,” he said aside to Ohlsen, the second mate—“Old son of a gun” as the men used to call him, making a sort of pun on his name—“the old man’s setting up as dominie to teach that bairn how to tak’ a sight, you ken; did you ever see the like? These be braw times when gentlefolk come to sea for schoolin’, and ship cap’ens have to tak’ to teachin’ ’em!”

Ohlsen didn’t reply to this save by a grunt, which might have meant anything, but I was certain Macdougall was trying to turn me into ridicule.

Captain Billings, however, did not overhear the remark; and proceeded to test my accuracy with the sextant, making me take the angle of the sun and that of the distant land on the port bow. He was delighted when, afterwards, I had worked out my calculations, based on the sight taken of the sun’s altitude, and, deducting the difference of the ship’s mean time from that observed, found out that our true position on the chart was very nearly 50 degrees 55 minutes 20 seconds North and 4 degrees 50 minutes 55 seconds West, or about ten miles to the south-west of Hartland Point on the Devonshire coast. It was all a labour of love, however, for the land was still within reach, and we had not long taken our “point of departure;” while soundings could still be had, if we wished, in thirty fathom water; so, there was no necessity for our taking an observation so early in the voyage. The skipper only did it to test my knowledge, and he was perfectly satisfied with the result apparently.

“Why, Macdougall,” he said to the Scotsman, who was waiting by with an air of ill-concealed triumph on his face, hoping to hear of my failure to work out the reckoning, “he’s a better navigator than you are!”

This, you may be certain, did not please the mate, who muttered something of it’s “all being done by guess work.”

But the skipper wouldn’t have this at any price.

“No, no, Macdougall,” he replied, quickly, “it’s all fair and square calculation, such as I couldn’t have managed at his age;” then, turning to me, he added, kindly, “you stick to it, my lad, and you’ll beat us all with the sextant before we get to Callao!”

The captain desired me, also, to work out the ship’s reckoning each day and to keep a log, the same as the first mate had to do, which that individual resented as a sort of check exercised upon him, and hated me accordingly. As I afterwards found out, he was an extremely bad navigator, and ignorant of all the newest methods, such as Sumner’s, for shortening calculation, consequently, he was afraid of his errors being discovered too easily if his log should be compared every day with mine.

Unaware of all these kindly feelings towards me, Captain Billings filled up the measure of Mr Macdougall’s wrath by inviting me to come into the cabin to dine with him that day at six bells, instead of waiting until the termination of Ohlsen’s watch, and go in with him to the “second table,” as it was termed, after the skipper and first mate had finished their repast—such being the etiquette in merchant ships.

Macdougall almost boiled over with anger when he heard the skipper ask me. His freckled face looked just like a turkey’s egg—boiled!

“Vara weel, vara weel, Cap’en Billings,” said he, with a mock deference that little disguised his rage: “but I’d ha’e you to know that I didn’t ship aboard here to mess wi’ ’prentice lads.”

The skipper fired up in an instant, a light darting from his blue eyes which one would not have thought their liquid depths capable of.

“And I would have you to know, Mr Macdougall,” he retorted, quickly, uttering every word, however, with distinct emphasis, “that I’m captain of my own ship, and shall ask whom I please to my table. Steward,” he added, calling out to that worthy, who was just sauntering by into the cabin from the cook’s galley with a covered dish in his hands, “lay a plate and knife and fork for Mr Leigh; and bear in mind that he dines with me every day when his duties allow!”

“Aye, aye, sir,” replied Owen Williams, proceeding on into his pantry with his dish, and I followed the skipper into the cabin shortly afterwards.

This was undoubtedly a blow to the mate, as I thought, sniggering over the little episode at the time; but, Mr Macdougall did not forget the fact of my having been the occasion of his getting a “dressing down” from the skipper, and he debited it carefully in his account against me, determining to pay me out for it on the first convenient opportunity—a resolution that was carried out quite soon enough for me, as you will presently learn!

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