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

by George Manville Fenn

  CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE.

  OH, MURTHER!

  Rodd was early on deck next morning for his bath, which consisted of somany buckets of water fresh fished up and dashed upon him by the men asa makeshift, consequent upon Captain Chubb telling him that he could nothave any swims on account of the sharks. "Can't spare you, my lad," hehad said. "But I haven't seen a shark," grumbled Rodd. "No, my lad,but they would very soon see you. You never know where those gentlemenare."

  So Rodd went on deck when sea and sky looked dim and a faint mist laylow upon the surface of the ocean, making everything indistinct. "She'sgone, sir; she's gone!"

  "Who's she, and where has she gone?" said Rodd, rather sleepily.

  "The _Diadem_, sir."

  "What, the sloop of war? Not she! You will see her come peeping out ofthe fog yonder before long."

  "Nay, sir; she's gone right off, and it's all right. My word, I wish wehad got a fiddle here!"

  "A fiddle! What for?"

  "Hornpipe, sir. The boys are all bubbling over and don't know how tobear themselves. Nothing like a few kicks up and down the deck to awell-played old tune, to get rid of it all."

  "Why, what are you talking about?" cried Rodd.

  "Talking about, sir? Ah, you never knowed what it was to be a sailor,and when you are free never knowing for a moment how soon you may bepressed. Why, I don't believe there was a man Jack on us as slept awink last night with thinking about this morning."

  "What, for fear you would be pressed, after what uncle said?"

  "Ay, ay, sir. Your uncle meant right enough, and he believed what hesaid, and that there lieutenant was civil enough; but a secondlieutenant aren't a first lieutenant, sir, and a first lieutenant aren'ta post-captain. We all talked a bit last night, and put that and thattogether, and Isaac Gregg, who aren't a very wise chap--you see, sir,he's got too much fat about him to leave room for anything else--but hesaid something smart last night. `Yes,' he says, `my lads, that allsounds right enough, but suppose when that boat got back the captainsays, Yes, he says, it's all very well, and I dare say that there gentgot leave from Government to man his schooner and come down herebottling sea-leeches and other insects of that kind; but I am short ofmen for the King's ship, and that's more consequence than what he'sdoing of. So you just start back at daybreak in the boat with mycompliments to Dr Robson, saying I'm very sorry, but he must pleasehand over six of the best lads he's got.'"

  "Oh, nonsense, Joe! The captain would be too much of a gentleman."

  "Being a gentleman, sir, is being a gentleman, but duty's duty, andofficers and sailors have to give up everything to that. Last night,whether we was on the watch, or turned in to our hot bunks, every manJack of us felt that the Bun was right, and a bit envious of him,because, poor chap, he would have been safe. They wouldn't have tookhim; but we all of us fully expected to see that boat coming back for usthis morning. But not only aren't there no boat, but the sloop'sslipped away in the night and gone."

  "Where's she gone, then?"

  "Well, that's what we don't know, sir, and we don't care."

  "But are you sure, Joe? She may be lying off yonder in the mist."

  "Oh no, she aren't, sir. Two on us have been up right aloft till wecould lay our hands on the main truck; and when you are up there you arelooking right over the fog. It's wonderful how close it lies to thewater. It's all right, sir, and I believe we are safe. Aren't youglad?"

  "Of course I am, Joe."

  "I know you are, sir. But just you think what we must be, just aboutfive hundred times as glad as you are, and we are all ready for anythingyou like. What's it to be to-day?"

  "Well, I don't think we shall do much. Uncle will consider it too hot."

  "Hot, sir? Not it! Just right. We shan't mind. Fishing, netting,rowing. You tell him not to think about us. It will just warm us up,for most on us had the shivers all night."

  The low mist began to lift soon after Rodd had had his bath, for thelevel rays of the sun began to pierce the grey haze as the great orangeorb slowly rolled up from the depths of ocean, investing it with theloveliest of pearly tints and iridescent hues, while not a speck of sailor the clearly marked lines of topmasts could be seen upon the horizonline.

  "Well," said the doctor, at breakfast, as Rodd told him what the men hadsaid, "the heat will be very great, but I shouldn't spare myself. If Igave up my researches to-day it would be for the sake of the men."

  "You needn't consider them that way, sir," said Captain Chubb. "Theywould rather you didn't. But couldn't you do something that would sparemy deck a little?"

  "Well, I am afraid that's impossible, Captain Chubb," said the doctor.

  "Ah, well, sir," said the captain, with a sigh, "I suppose you must goon; but it seems a pity when everything's so white and clean."

  So the captain's decks suffered all day, and were swabbed clean again,while that evening before the mists began to gather there was a freshsurprise.

  Rodd took it into his head to go up to the main cross-trees with theglass. He had said nothing, but he had some idea as to the possibilityof the sloop coming into sight again, and he had made up his mind if hecould see her in the distance to give Captain Chubb a broad hint, andurge him to press on full sail right through the night.

  It was very glorious, Rodd thought, as he perched himself up aloft onthe cross-trees, after finding the heavy glass very much in his way ashe climbed.

  "It's beautiful up here; but--"

  He did not finish his remark to himself, but got his left arm well roundthe mast, adjusted the glass, and began slowly to sweep the horizon.

  He felt in a state of doubt and suspicion, fully expecting that at anymoment the tapering masts of the sloop might slowly creep into the fieldready to damp his hopes, for his feelings were completely on the side ofthe men. But as slowly and carefully he ran the glass along what seemedto be the very edge of the world, his spirits rose.

  "Nothing--nothing," he kept on muttering to himself. "Oh, how big theworld is, after all! Here we are, just like a speck on the ocean, quitealone, and though there must be thousands of ships and boats sailingabout, not one in sight, and in about another ten minutes all will bebright starlight again--and let's see, I began here, and I've swept thesea right round, and just in time, for before I could go round again orhalf-way it will be quite dark--and--What's that?" he cried excitedly.

  He started violently, and his hands trembled so that he had greatdifficulty in steadying the glass to fix it upon that which had suddenlycaught his eye.

  "Nothing!" he muttered impatiently. "It was my fancy. I made as sureas possible, just as I was going to lower the glass, that I could seethe three masts of the sloop standing right out yonder towards the west.All rubbish and imagination," he muttered. "I pictured that because itwas what I was afraid of seeing when--Oh-h-h! It wasn't fancy! Thereshe is! Oh, there she is, after all!"

  He looked sharply down at the deck, which was occupied only by four ofthe men, the skipper and Uncle Paul being in the cabin. But one ofthese men was Joe Cross, and Rodd chirruped faintly to attract's thesailor's attention.

  "Make out anything, sir?"

  "Come up here, Joe," replied Rodd, in a low tone, and the man sprang tothe ratlines and began rapidly to ascend till he was nearly on a levelwith the occupant of the cross-trees.

  "See a whale spouting, sir? I should have thought it was getting toodark."

  "No, Joe; but I have just made out the sloop with the glass."

  "Nay, sir! Don't say that!" cried the man, in a startled tone.

  "Take the glass, Joe. I am afraid it's true."

  "Oh, murther! as Pat says," groaned the sailor, as he hurriedly adjustedthe glass and began to sweep the horizon in the direction Rodd pointedout, a few points on the starboard bow. "Can't see nothing, sir. Wereyou sure?"

  "Yes, Joe; quite."

  "But it's getting dark too fast, sir. I can make nothing out. If youare right, though, she mayn't have s
een us and may be out of sight againby morning.--Ah, I've got her!"

  "There, I knew I was right, Joe."

  "Not quite, sir. Yes, I've got her quite plain now, but she's dying outfast. It aren't a man-of-war. It's a two-master of some kind. A bigschooner or a brig. It's all right, sir. There's life in a mussel,after all. My word, though, didn't it bring my heart up into my mouth!"

  "Are you sure it's not a three-master, Joe?" cried Rodd joyously.

  "Sartin sure, sir. Why, you talk as frightened like as we poor ladswere."

  "What vessel was it, then?"

  "Oh, I don't know what she was, sir. I only know what she warn't.That's enough for us, eh, sir? I say, sir; what weather! Ratherdifferent to what we had in the French port. Looks settled too. Niceand cool the air feels. There, it's only fancy, but it's just as if Icould sniff the land."

  "How far are we away, Joe?" asked Rodd.

  "Long way, sir. But I say, Mr Rodd, sir, I wouldn't say anything downbelow. It'd only skeer the lads and set them thinking all night."

  "But wouldn't you say anything about having seen that ship?"

  "Oh, if you like, sir. The skipper ought to know. But I can swear shewarn't a man-of-war, and that's enough for us. Oh, there is theskipper. My word, though, you can hardly see him! Curus, isn't it, howthe mist begins to gather? Pretty good sign we are not so very far offthe shore. Will you hail him, sir, or shall I?"

  "You, Joe."

  A brief conversation ensued, question and answer ending by Joe'sdeclaration that he believed it was a brig; and then they descended tothe deck.