CHAPTER THIRTEEN.
IN THE FRENCH PORT.
In spite of the knocking about by the storm, the schooner was none theworse, and in the course of the day as the weather rapidly settled downand the western gale seemed to have blown itself out, while the sailorshad been busy swabbing the rapidly drying planks, and, the wind havingfallen, shaking out the saturated sails to dry, Uncle Paul strolled withhis nephew up and down the deck, waiting till the skipper seemed to beless busy before going up to him.
"Well," said Uncle Paul; "are we damaged at all?"
"Not a bit," was the gruff reply. "It's done her good--stretched herropes and got the canvas well in shape."
"But how do you feel about the schooner?"
"As if she was just what we wanted, sir. Given me a lot of confidencein her."
"Then as the weather is settling down you will sail again to-night?"
"No; I want to get a little more ballast aboard, and this is all alittle bit of show. We shall have more weather before long. I shan'tsail yet."
The work being pretty well done--that is, as far as work ever is done ina small vessel--Rodd noticed that some of the men had been smarteningthemselves up, and after hanging about a bit watching the captain tillhe went below, Rodd saw them gather in a knot together by the forecastlehatch, talking among themselves, till one of the party, a heavy,dull-looking fellow, very round and smooth-faced and plump, with quite acolour in his cheeks, came aft to where Rodd and his uncle were standingwatching the busy scene about the wharves of the inner harbour, anddiscussing as to whether they should go ashore for a few hours to lookround the town.
"I am thinking, Pickle, that after such a bad night as we had, we mightjust as well stay aboard and rest, and besides, as far as I can seeeverything's muddy and wretched, and I fancy we should be betteraboard."
"Oh, I don't know, uncle. We needn't be long, and it will be a change.But here's the Bun coming up to speak to you."
"The what!" cried Uncle Paul.
"That man--Rumsey."
"But why do you call him the Bun?"
"Oh, it's the men's name for him," said Rodd, laughing. "They nicknamedhim because he was such a round-faced fellow."
"Beg pardon, sir," said the man, making a tug at his forelock.
"Yes, my man; you want to speak to me?"
"Yes, sir; the lads asked me to say, sir, that as it's been a very roughnight--"
"Very, my man--very," said Uncle Paul, staring.
"They'd take it kindly, sir, if you'd give about half of us leave to goashore for a few hours."
"Oh, well, my man, I have no objection whatever," said Uncle Paul. "Asfar as I am concerned, by all means yes."
"Thankye, sir; much obliged, sir," said the man eagerly, and pulling hisforelock again he hurried forward to join the group which had sent himas their spokesman to ask for leave.
Rodd turned to speak to his uncle, and caught Joe Cross's eye instead,wondering at the man's comical look at him as he closed an eye andjerked one thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the group forwardas they began whispering together, and then, thrust forward towards theside by his companions, the Bun began to signal towards the Frenchmenhanging about the nearest landing-place, where several boats were madefast to the side of the dock.
Just at that moment the skipper came up from below, saw what was goingon at a glance, strode towards the group, which began to dissolve atonce, the Bun being the only man whose attention was taken up by aboatman who was answering his signal. Just while the signaller wasmaking his most energetic gestures he leaped round in the most startledway, for the skipper had closed up and given him a very smart slap onthe shoulder.
"Now, Rumsey, what's this?" he cried.
"Boat, sir. Going ashore, sir."
"Who is?" said the skipper, frowning.
"Us six, sir."
"Us six! Why, you're only one."
"Yes, sir. These 'ere others too, sir."
"What others?" cried the captain, and Rumsey, looking anxiously around,found for the first time that he was alone.
"The lads as was here just now, sir--six on us."
"Oh, indeed!" said the skipper sarcastically, and raising his cap hegave his rough hair a rub. "Let me see; when did I give you leave to goashore?"
"No, sir; not you, sir. Dr Robson, sir."
"Oh, I see," said the skipper.
This was all said loud enough for Rodd and Uncle Paul to hear, and Roddbegan to grin as he looked at his uncle, whose face assumed a perplexedaspect, one which increased to uneasiness as the captain came up to themat once.
"Just a word, sir," he said. "Did you order these men to go ashore?"
"Oh no," cried Uncle Paul. "One of them came up to me, asking if I hadany objections to their going ashore, and I said, not the least. Isupposed, of course, that they had got leave from you."
"Of course, sir. Bless 'em for a set of artful babies! They aren'tlearned discipline yet. You, Rumsey, go and tell your messmates that ifthey try that game again with me they'll stand a fine chance of notgoing ashore for the rest of the voyage."
"Yes, sir, I'll tell them, sir," cried the man hurriedly; and heshuffled off as hard as he could to find those who had left him in thelurch.
"Here, you, Joe Cross," continued the captain, "you signal to thatFrenchy boatman that he is not wanted."
"Ay, ay, sir!" cried Cross, hurrying to the side, where he begangesticulating angrily, in spite of which the boatman persisted in comingalongside and in voluble French declaring that he was ordered to comeand would not go back until he was paid.
Meanwhile a little explanation was going on between the skipper andUncle Paul.
"Don't want to be bumptious, sir," said the former, "but there's onlyroom on board a craft for one captain. Those fellows jump at any chanceto get ashore, and when they are there, there's no knowing when you'llget them on board again, besides which, they wouldn't be careful, andFrench and English don't get on very well together after all that's goneby. Here, Cross, tell that jabbering Frenchman if he isn't off, he'llhave to go back with a hole through the bottom of his boat. No, stop.Go and find Mr Craig. Tell him to set those six men something to do."
"Ay, ay, sir!" cried the sailor, hurrying off.
"There, it was all my fault, captain," said Uncle Paul, smiling. "Iwon't offend again. Here, Rodd, my boy, give that poor fellow ashilling for his trouble."
Rodd hurried to the side, hailed the man, and held out the coin, tellinghim in very bad French what it was for; but the fellow shook his head,held up four fingers, and began shouting "_Quatre_!" so loudly that theskipper heard.
"Cat, indeed!" he shouted. "Just what I should like to give him. Here,come away, Mr Rodd; he shan't have anything now."
But Rodd did not obey at once.
"One or nothing," he cried to the man, in French.
"_Quatre! Quatre_!" shouted the man.
Rodd shook his head and was turning away, but the boatman swarmed up theside, and reaching over the rail, shouted "_Quatre_!" again, till theskipper made so fierce a rush at him that he lowered his feet quicklydown into his boat, catching the shilling that Rodd pitched to him, andthen hurriedly pushing off for the landing-place.
"Oh, it's all right, Dr Robson," said the skipper, "only you must leaveall this shore-going to me. I know my lads; you don't."
Just then Craig, the mate, came up on deck, looking very sour at havingbeen awakened from a comfortable sleep, and did not scruple aboutsetting the delinquents to work upon some very unnecessary task, to thegreat delight of their messmates, who, headed by Joe Cross, gave thempretty freely to understand what their opinion was of the scheme to geta run ashore.
It was towards evening that, after a hasty meal, partaken of in peace inthe still waters of the harbour, tempted by a few gleams of sunshine,and for Rodd's gratification, Uncle Paul and Rodd were rowed ashore inthe same boat as the skipper, who had business with the English Consulabout his papers, the understanding being
that the boat was to go backand meet them at nine o'clock.
"That's as long as we shall want to stay, Rodd," said Uncle Paul.
"Yes, sir," said the skipper; "and if I were you I'd turn in early for agood night's rest, for I'm thinking we shall have dirty weather againto-morrow, and there's no knowing how long it will last."
"But it looks so bright to-night," cried Rodd.
"Just here, sir," cried the skipper, "and it may be fine enough to temptme off in the morning; but I don't feel at all sartain, and to-morrownight we may be having another knocking about."
They separated at the landing-place, and for the next two hours Rodd wasmaking himself acquainted with the principal streets of the old seaport,time going very rapidly and the night coming on.
It was growing pretty dark, and after making two mistakes as to theirdirection, Rodd declared that he knew the way, and his uncle yielding tohis opinion, the boy led on, till, turning a corner sharply, they almostcame in contact with a couple of French officers walking in the oppositedirection, the one a tall, stern, elderly-looking man, talking in a lowexcited tone to his young companion, whose attention was so much takenup as he deferentially listened to his elder, that he started back toavoid striking against Rodd, who also gave way.
It was now almost dark, and the next moment the French officers hadpassed on, as Uncle Paul exclaimed--
"Yes, I believe you are right, Pickle. You are. Those are ships'lights hoisted up to the stays. Well, don't you see?"
"Yes, uncle, but--"
The boy said no more, and Uncle Paul laid his hand upon his shoulder.
"What's the matter?" he cried. "Why don't you speak? Those are thelights in the harbour."
"Yes--yes. Yes, uncle, I see," said the boy hastily; "but--er--but--er--"
"Why, what's the matter with you? Don't feel done up?"
"No, uncle," replied Rodd hurriedly. "I was only puzzled; it seemed sostrange."
"You mean you seem so strange," said the doctor, laughing.
"Yes, uncle, I feel so."
"Well, come along, and let's make haste aboard. I don't want to keepthe captain waiting. We have lost so much time by missing our way.It's past nine, I'm sure."
"Yes, uncle," said the boy, speaking more like himself; "it must be.But I felt so startled in coming suddenly upon those two officers."
"Why, there was nothing to startle you, my boy."
"No, uncle, I suppose not; but somehow I felt that I had been close tothat one who nearly ran up against me before, and when he said`_Pardon_'--"
"I didn't hear him say `_Pardon_,'" said Uncle Paul.
"But he did, uncle, just in a low tone so that I could hardly hear him,and then I felt sure we had met before."
"Nonsense!" cried Uncle Paul. "Look here, my boy, how much sleep didyou have last night?"
"Sleep, uncle!" cried the boy, in a voice full of surprise.
"Why, none at all. Who could sleep through that storm?"
"I'll answer for myself," said the doctor; "I could not. Well, you werecompletely tired out, and are half dreaming now. Come along; let's findthe boat and get on board for a light supper and a good night's rest."
"Yes, uncle," said Rodd quietly; "but take care; we are on the wharf. Ican make out the shipping plainly now;" and as he spoke a familiar hailcame out of the darkness, while as they answered the captain strodetowards them.
"Thought you were lost, gentlemen. Been waiting half-an-hour. Takecare; the boat's down here;" and striding along the top of the harbourwall the skipper led the way to the descending steps, where the boat waswaiting, and they were rowed aboard.
An hour later Rodd was plunged in the deepest of deep sleeps, butdreaming all the same of the storm and of getting into difficulties withsome one who was constantly running against him and whispering softly,"Pardon!"
The Ocean Cat's Paw: The Story of a Strange Cruise Page 13
