The Ocean Cat's Paw: The Story of a Strange Cruise

by George Manville Fenn

  CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.

  THE KING'S SHIP.

  It was the afternoon of a blazing hot day, when the pitch was oozing outin drops in every exposed place, and Rodd had found it exceedinglyunpleasant to touch any piece of the brass rail, bolt, the bell, oreither of the guns, for the schooner was gliding on southward with everyscrap of her white sails spread, and the wind that wafted her onwardsent a feeling of lassitude through all on board.

  Some days before, Captain Chubb had set his men to work to rig up asmall awning aft, and the doctor having declared that it was too hot forwork, he and Rodd had spent most of their time beneath this shelter,till the latter had struck against it, declaring it was all nonsense,for the sun came hotter through the canvas than it did where there wasno shade at all, or else it seemed to, for there was no breeze in theshelter, and though what wind there was seemed as if it had come pastthe mouth of a furnace, still it was wind, and the lad declared that itwas far preferable to stewing under the awning.

  It was a lazy time, and the men, who had dressed as lightly as theycould contrive, went very slowly about their several tasks, and at lastwhen Rodd strolled towards the man at the wheel, he had to listen to apetition.

  It was fat Isaac Gregg who was taking his trick, as he called it, and hebegan at Rodd at once.

  "I've got something to ask you, sir," he said.

  "Oh, bother!" cried Rodd, taking off his straw hat to turn it into afan. "It's too hot to listen. Don't ask me anything, because if youdo, I shall be too stupid to tell you."

  "Oh, it aren't hard, sir," said the man innocently, as he let a coupleof spokes pass through his hands and then ran them back again. "It'sonly as the lads asked me--"

  "Well, well, go on," said Rodd, for the man stopped. "Phew! It's justas if the tops of the waves where they curl over were white hot."

  "Yes, sir, it is a bit warm," said the man; "but I've felt it warmer."

  "Couldn't," said Rodd abruptly.

  "Oh yes, sir; much hotter than this."

  "What! You've felt it hotter than this?"

  "Oh yes, sir."

  "Then why didn't you melt away? I should have thought you would runlike a candle all into a lump."

  "Ah, that's your fun, sir. Some of the lads has been telling you that Iam fat. That's a joke they have got up among them, just because I'm alittle thicker than some of the others. But as I was a-saying, sir,they ast me to ast you--"

  "Now it's coming then," sighed Rodd. "Phew! Wish all my hair had beencut off. It gets so wet, and sticks to my forehead."

  "Yes, sir, it's best short," said the man. "Just you look at mine. Youshould have it done like this."

  As he spoke the sailor took off his hat and exhibited a head which hadbeen trimmed down till all the scalp resembled a dingy brush, for it wascut with the most perfect regularity, for the hair to stand up inbristly fashion for about a quarter of an inch from the skin.

  "Why, who cut that?" cried Rodd, with something approaching to energy,this being the first thing that had taken his attention that day.

  "Joe Cross, sir. He's a first-rate hand with a comb and a pair ofscissors. You let him do your head, sir and you won't know yourselfafterwards."

  "Oh yes, I should," said the boy sleepily, gazing down at the quiveringcompass and its many points.

  "I mean you would feel so comfortable, sir."

  "Oh, well, then, I will. Anything," cried Rodd--"anything not to be sohot!"

  "That's right, sir. Ast me to ast you, sir."

  "Well, you've been asking for the last half-hour. What is it?" criedRodd peevishly.

  "To ast the doctor, sir--"

  "For some physic to make them cool?" snapped out Rodd. "Tell them to goand ask him themselves, and he'll say what I do--that they are not toeat so much nor drink so much, and not to work in the sun. There,that's all uncle would say."

  "Yes, sir, but that aren't it," cried Gregg, making one of the spokes ofthe wheel swing from hand to hand.

  "Then what do they want?"

  "Why, sir, it seems rum, but Joe Cross and the other lads know betterwhat's good for them than I do. You see, sir, they want to get to workagain at your fishing and hauling, or rowing about, for they says theycan keep much cooler when they are moving about and got to think whatthey are doing than when there's no work on hand and nothing to thinkabout at all."

  "Oh, very well," said Rodd grumpily, "I'll go and ask him, for I amabout sick of this. I think there must be some volcanoes here, orsomething of that kind, for I never felt it so hot before."

  "You aren't used to it, sir; but I thought you would, sir, and the ladssaid they thought you would too. Thank you, sir."

  Rodd yawned, turned slowly on his heels, and strolled away to whereUncle Paul was sitting back in an Indian cane chair, resting thecarefully-focussed spy-glass upon a half-opened book standing upon itsfront edges propped upon four more in the middle of a little table.

  "Ah, Pickle, my lad! You had better stop in the shade. I don't wantyou to be getting any head trouble in this torrid sun."

  "Oh, I am all right, uncle; but the men want to begin fishing or doingsomething again, keeping cool."

  "Too hot till towards evening, my boy," replied the doctor. "But lookhere; you were saying only the other day how strange it was that we sawso few vessels. Well, here's one at all events--a three-master."

  "Oh, whereabouts, uncle?" cried the boy eagerly.

  "Away to the west yonder, hull down. There, take the glass."

  As Rodd was arranging it to his own satisfaction the doctor went onquietly--

  "Out here I am not going to give an opinion, but if we were in thegarden at home in the look-out I should say that was a man-of-war cominginto Plymouth port."

  "Yes, that she is, uncle," cried Rodd, who had forgotten the heat inthis new excitement.

  "A man-of-war--that she is!" said Uncle Paul quietly. "That soundsridiculous, Pickle. But one has to give way to custom."

  "Yes," said Rodd--"a frigate. I can tell by her white sails."

  "Not big enough for a frigate, my boy. A sloop of war, I should think.Now, what can she be doing down here?"

  "I know, uncle," cried the boy excitedly--"looking after the slaveships."

  "Ah, very likely," cried Uncle Paul. "I shouldn't be surprised. We arepretty near to that neighbourhood; and if she is it's quite likely thatshe'll overhaul us. Ah, here's Captain Chubb coming up. Look here,skipper!"

  The captain, who looked very hot, and whose face proclaimed very plainlythat he had been having an after-dinner nap, came slowly up, stoopedwithin the awning, and in silence took hold of the spy-glass, whoseglistening black sides were quite hot, and which Rodd thrust into hishands.

  He wanted no telling what for, but raised and adjusted the glass to hisown sight, took a quick shot at the distant object upon the horizon, andthen lowered it directly. "British man-of-war," he grunted. "That'sbad."

  "Why?" cried Rodd sharply.

  The skipper turned upon him, looked at him fiercely, and then almostbarked out--

  "You don't know, youngster?"

  "No. What do you mean?"

  "Means that I've got as smart a picked crew as a man need wish to have."

  "To be sure," said Rodd; "of course you have. I do know that."

  "Well," said the skipper gruffly, "I don't want to lose them; that'sall."

  Rodd and his uncle exchanged glances, while the skipper went and stoodat the side and began scanning the sky, to come back shaking his head.

  "No more wind, and not likely to be."

  "Well, we don't want any more, do we?" said Uncle Pad.

  "Ay; if a good breeze would spring up I'd show them a clean pair ofheels."

  "Oh, I see," cried Rodd excitedly. "You think that they would presssome of our men and take them aboard. Oh, Captain Chubb, you mustn'tlet them do that!"

  "I don't mean to, my lad, if I can help it. I hadn't reckoned on seeingone of them down here."

 
; "Uncle thinks they're after the slavers."

  "Nay, my lad, I don't think that. More likely after one of the palm-oilcraft to see if they can pick up a few men out of them."

  "Oh, that's a false alarm, captain," said Uncle Paul. "My papers andthe work we're upon with a grant from Government would clear us."

  "Ought to, sir," said the skipper gruffly, "but I wouldn't trust them.If a King's ship wants men, good smart sailors such as ours, men whohave served, her captain wouldn't be above shutting his eyes and makinga mistake. Anyhow I'm going to crack on as hard as I can till shebrings us up with a gun, and then I suppose I shall have to heave to orrisk the consequences."

  "Hadn't you better risk the consequences, Captain Chubb?" said Rodd, ina half-whisper.

  "Here you, Rodney, mind what you are saying, sir! It's the duty ofevery Englishman to respect the law, and I feel perfectly certain,Captain Chubb, that there is nothing to fear in that direction, so goquietly on as you are, unless you are obliged to heave to. Seeing howlittle wind there is, and how distant that sloop, I think it's veryprobable that she'll not overhaul us before it grows dark."

  "Oh, uncle," cried Rodd, "she'll have plenty of time. The sun won't godown for an hour or so."

  "Well, how long will it be before it's dark afterwards?" cried UnclePaul. "You forget that we are in the tropics, and how short a time itis between sunset and darkness."

  "Yes, sir; you are quite right there," said the skipper, "and that'swhat I'm hoping for. If we can only get the bit of time over 'twixtthis and the dark, I shan't care, for she won't see us in the morning."

  By this time one of the sailors forward had noticed the skipper usingthe glass, seen what took his attention, and communicated it to hismessmates, with the result that all who had been below gathered forwardand stood anxiously watching the beautiful vessel, whose sails glistenedin the sunshine as if their warp was of silver and their woof of gold.

  Rodd noticed at once what a change had taken place amongst the men. Alllistlessness had gone, and they were watching the King's ship, for suchCaptain Chubb had declared her to be at once, and were talking inexcited whispers together, their manner showing that whatever thecaptain's opinion might be, theirs was, as sailors, that they would nottrust a King's ship that was in want of men.

  After a time Rodd was attracted towards them, and he strolled up, JoeCross turning to him at once, to begin questioning him in a low tone.

  "What does the skipper say, sir?"

  "He said it was a sloop of war, Joe."

  "Oh yes, sir, we know that," said the man irritably; "but we've been'specting him here ever so long. So's our bo'sun. There, look; he'sgot his pipe in his hand. Didn't he say nothing about no orders?"

  "No, Joe."

  "Didn't he say nothing about hysting another stunsail or two?"

  "No, Joe."

  "Oh-h-h!" came in a groan from the men; and Rodd felt for them, for oflate they had become more and more attached to their position, andseemed as happy as a pack of school-boys on board the beautiful littleschooner.

  "But he has been saying something, lads," continued Rodd, in a low tone.

  "Ay, ay, of course," cried Joe. "Our old man don't want to lose us, andhe knows best what he ought to do. Go on, Mr Rodd, sir; tell us whathe means."

  "I think he means to keep on quietly, in the hope of the schooner notbeing signalled to heave to."

  "Go on, sir, please, quick!" panted one of the men. "You don't knowwhat it means to us."

  "Before it becomes dark," continued Rodd.

  "Ay, ay, my lad! That's right, sir. Why, of course," cried Joeexultingly. "Trust our old man, boys;" and whistling loudly a few barsof the Sailor's Hornpipe, he snatched off his straw hat, dashed it downupon the deck, and began to cut and shuffle and heave and turn, goingthrough all the steps as if it were cool as an early spring, while hismessmates formed in a ring about him, half stooped with bended knees,joined in the whistle, and beat time upon their knees and clapped hands,till the figure was gone through, and Joe Cross brought histerpsichorean bit of frantic mania to an end, by bringing his right footdown upon the deck with a tremendous stamp which was followed by ahearty cheer.

  "That's your sort, Mr Rodd, sir! It's all right," cried Joe, panting,and wiping his streaming face. "If anybody had told me that I could dothat ten minutes ago, when I felt as if I had hardly stuff enough in meto lift a leg, I should have told him he was going off his head. Didn'tthink you could put sperrits into us like that, sir, with just a word,now did you?"

  "I am very glad, Joe," said Rodd.

  "Glad, sir? So's we--every man Jack on us. You see, it means a lot.When you have got a comfortable mess, and a skipper as makes you haultogether in a brotherly sort of fashion, it aren't nice for a King'sship to come down and take its pick of the men. We as is able seamendon't want to shirk, and if we are obliged to go in time of war, why, weare ready to go and do our duty like men; but it do nip a bit at first,sir, 'specially at a time like this."

  "Ay, ay, Joe!" came in chorus.

  "You see, sir, mostlings life on board a ship is so much hard work, andyou has a lot of weather of some sort or another to fight agen; but withthe 'ception of that bit of rough time getting into the French port,this 'ere's been a regular holiday, and--Oh my! There she goes, lads!"groaned the poor fellow, for the hull of the sloop had been graduallyrising more and more into sight, rapidly at last from the refraction asshe had glided into a hotter stratum of air while nearing the schooner,and all at once a white puff of smoke had darted out of her bows, to befollowed by a dull heavy thud, when the men turned as with one accord togaze at their captain, as if hoping against hope that he would stillhold on instead of giving an order to fat Gregg, the steersman, to throwthe schooner up in the wind.