CHAPTER THIRTY ONE.
GREAT FRIENDS.
The days that followed the attempt to salve the brig after so strange anintroduction to her commander and his son, fell calm all through the hotsunny time, and only that a pleasant cool breeze ushered in the eveningand continued till the sun rose again, very little progress would havebeen made by the schooner and its consort, sailing east and south.
But nobody seemed troubled. When the French and English sailors weretogether they were the best of friends; while long conversations andarguments often took place between the doctor and his new friend, theskipper generally letting them have the cabin to themselves.
Sometimes they drifted into political questions and came very near tolosing their tempers; but each mastered and kept down his opinions, fora genuine feeling of liking had arisen between them, and the Countseemed never weary of listening to Uncle Paul's disquisitions upon themarvels of natural history, nor of studying with him the wonders ofcreation which he had collected and had to show. Then day by day thebrig, which was freed every day from as much water as she had gainedduring the night, sailed steadily on in the schooner's wake in fullcharge of her stern fierce-looking French mate--one of the most silentof men.
And while the Count was mostly with the doctor, literally taking lessonsin pelagic lore, the two lads had become inseparable.
"Look here," said Rodd, almost hotly, one day, "if ever you say a wordagain about my helping you to escape at Dartmoor, you and I are going toleave off being friends."
Morny laughed, a pleasant, almost girlish smile lighting up his well-cutGallic features.
"Why, Rodd," he cried, "isn't that rather hard? I used to think thatwas the most horrible time in my life, but I feel now that one part ofit was the most delightful."
"There you go again," cried Rodd. "You are beginning."
"No, no, I wasn't. But I can't forget being a prisoner in England, andabout all that I went through there with my father when he was bad solong with his wound."
"Bad so long with his wound?" said Rodd eagerly. "Ah! You may talkabout that. Yes, I should like to hear. Tell me all about your beingtaken prisoners, and how it happened."
"For you never to be friends with me any more?" said the French ladmaliciously.
"No, no, no. But I hate for you to be what you call grateful. You arequite a good sort of chap, and you speak our language so well that Iforget you are not English sometimes, till you begin to be grateful tome for saving you, and then I feel that you are French. There, now youmay tell me all about it--I mean about before you met me fishing."
The two lads were under the awning upon this particular day justamidships. It was a hot and breathless time, but both were pretty wellinured to the weather, and were so interested in the subjects suppliedto them by Nature in the way of floating wonders that they nevertroubled themselves about the heat.
Upon this occasion they were lying together upon the deck, suffering toa certain extent from lassitude consequent upon the heat. There was aman at the wheel, and Joe Cross was seated upon the main cross-treeswith a spy-glass across his legs, ready to raise it from time to timeand direct it eastward to try and pierce the faint silvery haze that laylow upon the horizon. The boys had grown very silent and thoughtful,Moray trying to recall memories of the past so that he might respond tohis English friend's demand upon him that he should relate something ofhis old experiences in connection with the war and his being broughtover to England, and so deep in thought that he paid no heed to hiscompanion. Meantime, Rodd, without any desire to play the eavesdropper,lay listening to the scraps of conversation which came up through thecabin skylight, growing a little louder than usual, for, as wasoccasionally the case, an argument was afloat respecting the late war,the doctor according to his wont growing wroth upon an allusion beingmade by his guest to the ex-Emperor Napoleon; and there were evidentlythreatenings of a storm, which was, however, suppressed by the gravedignity of the Count and a feeling of annoyance which attacked UnclePaul upon realising that he had ventured upon dangerous ground.
"Oh, Uncle Paul," said Rodd to himself, and he lay and laughed softly,making Morny start.
"Was I talking aloud?" said the French lad, flushing.
"You? No! Didn't you hear? It was Uncle Paul. Your father wastalking about Napoleon, and directly his name is mentioned uncle beginsto boil over."
"Ah, yes, so you have told me, and I gathered something of the kind. Myfather should not have spoken about the Emperor, though he venerates hisname."
"Do you?" said Rodd.
"I?" replied Morny proudly. "Of course. He is the greatest man whoever lived."
"I say; I'm not Uncle Paul."
"Of course not. But why do you say that?"
"Because it seems as if you were trying to lead me on, like your fatherdid with uncle."
"Ah, no, no, don't think that. Better to let such things rest."
"Yes," said Rodd. "I didn't hear much of what they were saying, onlythey talked loudly sometimes about the way the French and English hateone another. It seems so stupid. Why should they? I don't hate you;and I suppose you don't hate me."
"Of course not! You have given me plenty of cause."
"Whoa!" shouted Rodd. "You are getting on dangerous ground again. Now,look here; why should the French hate the English?"
"Because the English never did us anything but harm."
"Nonsense!" said Rodd coolly. "Now, look here, suppose you and I had agood fight, and I got the best of it--gave you an unlucky crack on thebridge of your nose, and made both your eyes swell up so that youcouldn't see."
"Well, it would be very brutal," said Morny. "Gentlemen should fightwith the small sword."
"Oh, I like that!" said Rodd merrily. "And then one of them sticks itin the other's corpus and makes him bleed, if he does nothing worse.Why, people have been killed."
"Yes, in the cause of honour," said Morny, slowly and thoughtfully.
"But that wouldn't have happened if they had been fighting with theirfists."
"It's of no use to argue a matter like this with an Englishman," saidMorny. "He cannot see such things with the eyes of a Frenchman."
"And a jolly good job too," said Rodd. "But we are running away fromwhat we have been talking about. I was saying, suppose you and I werefighting and I hit you on the bridge of the nose and made your eyesswell up so that you couldn't see; that would be no reason why youshould always hate me afterwards. Wouldn't it be much better if the onewho was beaten owned it and shook hands so as to be good friends again?"
"Hah!" said Morny, giving vent to a long deep sigh.
"Uncle Paul always says that there is so much good to do in the worldthat there is no room for animosity or hatred, especially as life is sovery short. Here, I don't see that we English have done anything worseto you French than conquering you now and then."
"What!" cried Morny. "What have you to say to the way in which youtreated your prisoners? You were never taken captive with your father--I mean your uncle, and shut up in a great cheerless building right outupon a cold, bleak, dreary moor."
"No," said Rodd gravely.
"My father and I were, after a sea-fight in which one of your greatbullying ships battered our little sloop of war almost to pieces andtook us into Plymouth, not conquered, for our brave fellows fought tillnearly all were killed or wounded."
"I say," cried Rodd earnestly, "I didn't know about this! Were youwounded?"
For answer Morny with flashing eyes literally snatched up hisshirt-sleeve, baring his thin white left arm and displaying in thefleshy part a curious puckering and discoloration, evidently the scar ofa bad wound.
"Poor old chap!" said Rodd softly. "I say, how was that done?"
"Grape-shot," replied Morny, drawing himself up proudly and deliberatelybeginning to draw down and button his sleeve.
"Did it hurt much?"
"Yes," said Morny rather contemptuously. "My father was wounded too, sothat he ha
d to be carried below, or else we should never have struck,but he would have gone down as a brave captain should with coloursflying, fighting for the Emperor to the very last."
"Then I am precious glad that the Count was taken below," said Rodd.
"Why?" snapped out the French lad fiercely.
"Because of course you would have sunk with him, for you couldn't haveswum for your life with a wounded arm."
"No; but shouldn't I have had my name written in history?"
"Perhaps. But you and I would never have met and become such goodfriends; for you know we are precious good friends when we can agree."
Morny laughed.
"Yes," he said pleasantly, "when we can agree. But do you think it wasgood treatment to keep us shut up there as prisoners on that drearymoor?"
"Let's see," said Rodd; "Dartmoor--all amongst the streams and tors, asthey call them?"
"Yes; a great granite desert."
"Oh, but it was very jolly there," said Rodd.
"I don't know what you mean by jolly," said Morny contemptuously.
"Why, they didn't keep you shut up. They let you roam about as youliked, didn't they, as long as you didn't try to escape?"
"Well--yes; but it was a long time before I went out at all," repliedMorny sadly. "For months I never left my father's side, and for a longtime I never expected that he'd recover; and as I used to sit there byhis bedside, watching, I began to get to hate the English more and more,and long to get away so as to begin righting for my country again. Butof course I couldn't leave my wounded father's side."
"No," said Rodd slowly and in a low voice, as if repeating the words tohimself. "Of course you couldn't leave your father's side."
"No," repeated Morny softly, "I couldn't leave my father's side. Butafter a time he made me go. He said my wound would never heal--for thesurgeon had told him so--if he kept me shut up day after day, and that Imust go out with the other prisoners and roam about on the moor; but Isaid I wouldn't leave him, and I didn't till he told me one day that Iwas growing white and thin and weak, and that he could see how I wassuffering from the pain in my wound."
"Ah, yes," said Rodd, in a low tone full of earnestness. "It must havegiven you terrible pain."
"And at last he said," continued Morny, "that if he saw me getting wellit would be the best cure for his injuries, but that if I were obstinateand refused to obey him now that he was lying there weak and helpless,it would surely send him to his grave."
"And then of course you went?" replied Rodd excitedly.
"Yes, I went then," replied Morny, "for at last I had begun to see thathe was right. And then every morning after we had been all mustered, asyou call it, and were free to go outside the gates, I went out with alot more right on to the wild desert. But I wanted to be alone, and assoon as I could I wandered away up amongst the great stones, and satdown to think and rage against myself for feeling so happy when I wantedto be miserable and in despair about our fate. For it was as ifsomething within me was mocking at my sufferings and trying to make melaugh and feel bright and joyous, for--Oh, how well I can remember itall up there! The sun was shining brightly, and the great block ofstone upon which I sat down felt hot and so different to the coldcheerless prison inside. Every here and there amongst the stones therewas the beautiful soft green grass, and little low shrubs were in fullblossom, some a of rich purple, and some of the brightest gold, while intwo or three places far up in the blue sky the _alouettes_ were singinglike they do in France; and every puff of soft warm wind that floated bywas scented with the sweet fragrance of that little herb--I forget itsname--that which the bees buzz about."
"Wild thyme?" said Rodd quickly.
"Ah, yes; wild thyme. And there for a long time I sat nursing my leftarm, fighting against what seemed to be a feeling of happiness, andtrying to think of all the evil that the English had done us, and what Iwould do as soon as I got free. But it was too much for me. I couldn'tdo it, and what I had looked upon from the prison windows from betweenthe bars would not seem to be the same wild stony desert, but beautifuland full of hope and joy."
"Ah!" cried Rodd. "That's because you were getting better. I know whatyou felt. I was like that once after a bad fever, and when I was takenout one fine morning for the first time, though I was weak as a rat Ifelt as if I must run and jump and shout all about nothing; but it wasbecause everything looked so beautiful, and I knew that I must begetting well."
The boys' eyes met for a few moments, and then Morny bowed his headslowly and went on.
"Yes," he said quietly, "I suppose it was a beautiful healthy place, andit began to make me feel like that; and as I looked round--for I hadclimbed very high--I could see right down into parts of a valley thatwas all full of sunshine and flashing light, for there was a littledancing stream running swiftly along, and as I looked down into it andsaw how it widened here and narrowed there as it flashed amongst thegreat rocks of granite, it set me thinking about home, and instead ofgoing on planning how I would revenge myself upon the English, I beganto wonder whether there would be trout there too, and soon afterwards Ibegan to creep slowly down so as to see. And then I remember that Iburst out laughing at myself, for it seemed so droll. My legs wouldkeep on bending under me, and I had to sit down and rest every now andthen."
"You were so weak," said Rodd earnestly.
"Yes, that was it," cried Morny; "but I didn't understand at first, andsomehow I didn't seem to mind a bit, but sat down and rested time aftertime, till at last I got right down to the edge of the little river, allshallow and dotted with blocks of stone; and there at first were thelittle trout darting about to hide themselves, scared away by my shadowupon the water. But as I sat down to watch they soon came out again,and began leaping at the little gnats that were flitting about thesurface. Then do you know how that made me feel?"
"Well," said Rodd, "I know how it would make an English boy feel--myself, for instance."
"How?"
"As if he'd like to have my namesake with only one _d_ in his hand, andbegin whipping the stream."
"Yes, that's how I felt," said Morny softly.
"I know about those trout on Dartmoor," cried Rodd, "right up on themoor. I know somebody who used to go and fish there, and he told methat he could go and catch dozens and dozens and dozens of them wheneverhe liked. But they were so very small."
"Yes," said Morny, speaking dreamily now, with his eyes so lit up, thatas Rodd watched his thin delicate face, he thought how handsome andwell-bred he looked.
"Too good-looking for a boy, but more fitted for a girl," he mused.
"And did you go and fish?" he cried, as he suddenly caught Morny's eyesgazing at him questioningly.
"Oh yes. I went back to the prison and spoke to one of our guards--afrowning, fierce-looking fellow--and I told him how ill my father was,and that he never seemed as if he could eat the prison rations, as theycalled them, and that I wanted to try and catch some of the little fishon the moor and cook them, and try if I could tempt him with them."
"And what did he say?" cried Rodd, for Morny had stopped.
"He made my heart feel on fire at first, for he growled out `Bah!Rubbish! There, go on in.' `Savage!' I said to myself. `Just like anEnglishman!'"
"What a brute!" cried Rodd. "But I say, old chap, our fellows are notall like that."
"No," said Morny. "But I hadn't done. Next minute he shouted after me,`Halt!' and when I stopped and looked round he called out, `Ahoy! Jim!'and another of the guards with his piece over his shoulder marched up towhere we stood, and the man I had first spoken to turned to me and said,`Here, you tell him what you said to me.'"
"And did you?" cried Rodd.
"I felt as if the words would choke me at first, but just then I seemedto see the trout hot and brown upon a dish and my father, sick and pale,looking at them longingly, and that made me speak to the other guard,who was scowling at me. And as I spoke a grim smile came over his face,and his eyes twinkled, and he show
ed his teeth. `All right, youngster,'he said. `Got a rod?' I shook my head. `No line? No flies?' I shookmy head again and again. `All right, young 'un,' he said. `You come tome two hours before sundown; I shall be on duty then. I'll set you upwith a bit of tackle. But I say, you Frenchies don't know how to throwa fly!' `I used to,' I replied, `at home, in France.' `Lor', did you?'he said. `Hear that, Billy? I never knew as a Frenchman knew how tofish. But that's all right, youngster--only my ignorance. Afisherman's a fisherman the wide world round.'"
"Well?" said Rodd, for his companion had stopped.
"Well?" said Morny.
"Go on."
"What about?"
"Well, you are a chap! Don't you know I was always very fond offishing?"
"I know you like fishing, for I saw you enjoying it that day when--"
"Steady!" cried Rodd.
"I've done," said Morny.
"But I don't want you to have done."
"Why, you forbade me to touch upon what you call dangerous ground."
"Bah! That's another thing. I don't want you to be grateful. But ofcourse I like to hear about you going fishing. I could almost wish thatyou and I could go and have a few hours together on Dartmoor now."
"And we cannot," said Morny quietly.
"No; but we might try for bonito or dolphins. But go on. I want you totell me about how you got on. Did you go to that prison guard two hoursbefore sundown?"
"Oh yes. He was as friendly as ever he could be, just because he foundthat I was fond of fishing, and lent me his rod and line and flies thathe made himself, and told me the best places to go to, and he was aspleased as I was when I came back to the prison with a dozen and a halfof little trout. Oh, I remember so well almost every word he said."
"Well, what did he say?" cried Rodd eagerly.
"Oh, he was a good-humoured droll fellow, though he looked so gruff, forwhen I showed him my fish he slapped me on the shoulder and said, `Welldone, young 'un! You are one of the right sort after all.' And then hetold me to take the fish into his quarters, and his missus, as he calledher, would cook them for me so that I could take them to my sick father;and when I thanked him he said it was all right, and that he and his`missus' had been talking together about how bad the French captainlooked, and that I had better get him a nice little dish like that asoften as I could."
Morny stopped again, and Rodd gazed at him impatiently.
"Here, I say," he cried, "what a tantalising sort of chap you are! Why,I could tell a story better than you."
"Why, I have told you the story," said Morny.
"No, you haven't. You keep stopping short when you come to whatinterests me most."
"Nonsense! You don't want me to go on telling you about catching morefish and getting them fried day after day, and about taking them up tomy father."
"What do you know about it?" cried Rodd. "It's just what I do want youto tell me. Did he like them and eat them, and did they do him good?Those are the best bits."
"You are a droll of boy," said Morny, laughing.
"I'm a what?" cried Rodd.
"Droll of boy--_drole de garcon. C'est juste, n'est-ce pas_?"
"Oh, if you like," cried Rodd merrily; "but if you don't think those arethe best parts of the story, which are?"
"Ah!" said Morny thoughtfully. "The part that I remember most isfeeling that somehow things are not always so black as they look, thatDartmoor was not such a dreary desert, and that the fierce frowningguards were not so hard and unpleasant as they seemed. There were timesafter that when I was very happy there, for my father's wound began toget better, and I found myself strong and well again. But after a timethere was a new governor there, who behaved very harshly to theprisoners, and as we got well the great longing for freedom used to growwithin us, and some of the men tried to escape. This made the governormore harsh and stern. We were kept more shut up--"
"And I suppose that made you long all the more to get free?"
"Of course," replied Morny; "and at last there came a time when we hearda little news from across the sea--news which seemed to make my fatherthe Count half wild with longing, and one day he told me that he had hada lot of napoleons sent to him to help him to escape, and that the firstfine day we were allowed out for exercise upon the moor we would make adash for liberty."
"You should have done it when you were out fishing," said Rodd.
"Oh no. The fishing had been stopped for a long time--ever since thefirst attempts had been made to escape."
"Oh, I see," said Rodd.
"And at last the day came," continued Morny, "and we made our attempt,but only to find that we were very closely guarded, and that soldierswere on the look-out in all directions; and in the attempt my father andI became separated, and I should have been taken if it had not beenthat--"
"Look here," cried Rodd, springing up, "there's Joe Cross signalling tome from the maintop. He can see something. I say, that happenedluckily for you, young fellow, for you were just getting on to dangerousground."
The Ocean Cat's Paw: The Story of a Strange Cruise Page 31
