Chapter XIX
TO JERSEY WITH A THIEF
The night's boat was the _Ella_. When the train drew to a standstilland the passengers got out Bertie supposed that their journey was atan end. His ideas as to the whereabouts of Jersey were very vagueindeed. He was surprised, therefore, when the captain, taking hishand, led him along the gangway to the boat. The stars were shiningbrightly overhead, but midnight never is quite as light as noon, andin the uncertain light he could neither see nor understand where itwas that they were going.
The captain led him to the hurricane deck, and then he paused. Then heled Bertie to a seat.
"This will be your bed to-night. I don't choose to go into the cabin,and I don't choose that you shall go without me."
Bertie sat down and wondered. Dark figures were passing to and fro;there were the lights on the shore; he could feel the throbbing of theengines; there was the unclouded sky above; he still was in a dream.Unfortunately the figure of the captain standing near turned the dreaminto a nightmare.
Most of the passengers went at once into their cabins. No one camenear them.
"Look up at me."
Bertie looked up. The captain, standing, looked down at him.
"Do you think I didn't see you in the train? Do you think I didn't seeyou wanting to open your mouth and blab before all those fools? Itwould have been capital fun for you, now, wouldn't it?"
Bertie shivered. The captain's ideas of fun were singular. Bertiewould have almost given his life to have done what the rascal hintedat, but he would have done it in his extremity of agony and with noidea of fun. It would have taken a burden off his mind which seemedalmost greater than he could bear; it threatened to drive him mad. Butto have played the part suggested would have needed a touch of theheroic--a courage, a strength which Bertie had not got.
The captain went on.
"I had half a mind to have shot you then. If you had winked your eye Ithink I should have done the trick. I have not quite made up my mindwhat I shall do with you yet. We shall soon be out at sea. Boys easilyfall overboard at night. I shouldn't be surprised if you falloverboard--by accident, you understand."
The captain smiled; but Bertie's heart stood still.
"Now lie down upon that seat, put your head upon that bag, and don'tyou move. I shan't go out of revolver range, you may rest assured."
Bertie lay down upon the seat. The captain began pacing to and fro.Every second or two he passed the recumbent boy. Once Bertie could seethat he was examining the lock of the revolver which he was holding inhis hand. He shut his eyes, trying to keep the sight away.
What an unsatisfactory difference often exists between theory andpractice! If there was one point in which he had been quite sure itwas his courage. To use his own words, he had pluck enough foranything. To "funk" a thing, no matter what; to show the white featherunder any set of conditions which could be possibly conceived--thesethings were to him impossible.
In such literature as he was acquainted with, the boy heroes werealways heroes with a vengeance. They were gifted beings whose nervewas never known to fail. They fought, with a complete unconsciousnessof there being anything unusual in such a line of conduct, against themost amazing odds. They generally conquered; but if they failed theirnerves were still unshaken, and they would disengage themselves withperfect coolness from the most astounding complication of disasters.They never hesitated to take life or to risk it; blood was freelyshed; they thought nothing of receiving several shots in the body anda sword-cut at the back of the head.
As for Dick Turpin, and Robin Hood, and Robinson Crusoe, and Jack theGiant-Killer--all the world knows that they went through adventureswhich makes the hair stand up on end only to read of, and through themall they never winced. Bertie was modestly conscious that thesegentlemen were perhaps a little above his reach--just a little,perhaps; but what the aforementioned boys had done he had thought thathe himself could do.
Yet here he was, lying upon a seat and shutting his eyes to preventhim from seeing a revolver. Why, one of those heroic boys would havefaced the whole six shots and never trembled!
The steamer started, and so did Bertie. Taken by surprise by thesudden movement, he raised himself a little on the seat.
"Keep still!"
The captain's voice came cool and clear. Bertie returned to his formerposition, not pausing to consider what his heroes would have done.
"If you want to move you must first ask my permission; but don't youmove without it, my young friend."
Bertie offered no remonstrance. The seat was not a comfortable one tolie upon. It was one of those which are found in steamers, formed ofrails, with a space between each rail. Possibly when they reached theopen sea it would be less comfortable still. But Bertie lay quitequiet, and never said a word. It was not exactly what his heroes wouldhave done. They would have faced the villain, and dared him to do hisworst; and when he had done his worst, and sent six shots inside them,with a single bound they would have grasped him by the throat, andwith a laugh of triumph have flung him head foremost into the gurglingsea.
But Bertie did not do that.
So long as they remained in the river one or two of the passengersstill continued to move about the decks. The night was so gloriousthat they probably thought it a pity to confine themselves in thestifling cabins. But by degrees, one after the other, theydisappeared, until finally the decks were left in possession of thecaptain and Bertie, and those whose duty it was to keep watch atnight.
Although they had passed Hurst Castle and reached the open sea, theweather was so calm that hardly any difference was perceptible in themotion of the vessel. Bertie still lay on the seat, looking at thestars.
He had no inclination to sleep, and even had he had such inclination,not improbably the neighbourhood of "Uncle Tom" and his revolver wouldhave banished slumber from his eyes.
He was not a sentimental boy. Sentimental boys are oftener found inbooks than life. But even unsentimental boys are accessible tosentiment at times. He was not a religious boy. Simple candour compelsthe statement that the average boy is not religious. But that night,lying on the deck, looking up at that wondrous canopy of stars,conscious of what had brought him there, aware of his danger, ignorantof the fate which was in store for him, knowing that for all he couldtell just ahead of him lay instant death, he would have been more orless than boy if his thoughts had not strayed to unwonted themes.
Through God's beautiful world, across His wondrous sea--the companionof a thief. Bertie's thoughts travelled homewards. A sudden flood ofmemories swept over him.
All at once the captain paused in front of him.
"Shall I throw you overboard?"
There was a glitter in his eyes. A faint smile played about his lips.Bertie was not inclined to smile. His tongue clave to the roof of hismouth.
"I have been asking myself the question, Why should I not? I shallhave to dispose of you in one way or other in the end; why not bydrowning now? One plunge and all is over."
This sort of conversation made Bertie believe in the possibility ofone's hair standing straight up on end. He felt persuaded that none ofhis heroes had ever been spoken to like this; nothing made of fleshand blood could listen to such observations and remain unmoved,especially with the moonlit waters disappearing into the night onevery side. What crimes would they not conceal?
"It is this way. It is you, or--I. In the railway train you would haveproclaimed me had you dared. You did not dare; sooner or later,perhaps, you will dare more. Why should I wait for your courage toreturn? We are alone; the sea tells no tales. Boys will leanoverboard: what more natural than that you should fall in? It isdistressing to lose one's nephew, especially so dear a one; but whatis life but a great battle-field which is covered with the slain? Situp, my boy, and let us talk together."
Bertie sat up, not because he wished it, but because he could not helpit. He had lost all control over his own movements. This man seemed tohi
m to be some supernatural being against whom it was vain to attemptto struggle.
There was no one by to listen to the somewhat curious conversationwhich occurred between these two.
"So you have run away? I think you said you ran away for fun. You haveevidently a turn for humour. Does this sort of thing enter into yourideas of fun--this little trip of ours?"
It emphatically did not. Bertie stammered out a negative.
"No--o!"
"You say your father is rich, you have a good home. Were you not happythere?"
"Ye--es!"
"Seriously, then, what did you propose to yourself to do when you ranaway?"
"I--I don't know."
"Did you propose to yourself a life like mine?"
Bertie shuddered. He shrank away from the man in front of him with anair of invincible repugnance.
"Answer me! Look me in the face and answer me. I have a taste forlearning the opinions of my fellow-men, and you are something originalin boys. Tell me, what is your candid opinion of myself? What do youthink of me?"
Bertie looked up as he was bidden. There was in his face something ofhis old bull-dog look. Something of his old courage had come backagain, and on his countenance was the answer ready written. But thecaptain meant to have the answer in plain words.
"Speak! you're not moonstruck, are you? Tell me what you think of me?"
"You'll kill me if I do."
The words came out heavily, as though he had to rid himself of anoverpowering weight before he could get them out. There was amomentary pause; then the captain laughed.
"I shall kill you anyhow. What difference will it make? Tell me whatyou think of me."
"You are a coward and a thief!"
The words were spoken; and in speaking them perhaps Bertie came nearerto what is called a hero than ever in all his life before. But theireffect upon the captain was not agreeable. Those who play at bowlsmust expect rubbers, and those who insist upon receiving an answerwhich they know can scarcely be agreeable should make the best of itwhen it comes. But the captain did not seem to see it.
Directly he had spoken Bertie saw that he had put his foot in it.Instinctively he slipped his hands between the rails of the seat andheld on tight. Only just in time, for the captain, stooping forward,tried to lift him in his arms.
"Leave go, you young brute!"
Bertie did leave go, but only to throw his arms about the captain'sneck. Instantly the captain stood up straight, holding Bertie in hisarms, staggering beneath his weight, for the convulsive clutch of thelad's arms about his neck encumbered him.
"If you don't take your arms away I'll kill you!"
But Bertie only clutched the tighter.
"Let me go! let me go!" he screamed with the full strength of hislungs.
The effect was startling. In the prevailing silence the boy's voicewas heard far out across the sea. Taken aback by such a show ofresistance where none had before been offered, the captain promptlyreplaced the lad upon the seat.
"What's the matter with you? It was only a joke."
Bertie unclasped his arms. The expression of his face showed that ithad been no joke to him. He looked like one who was not even yet quitesure that he had escaped from death.
The man at the helm was unable to see the seat on which they sat. Theforward watch had been on the other side the ship. This man nowadvanced.
"What's the matter there?"
The captain met him with his most placid air.
"Did you hear my nephew's voice? He had no idea he spoke so loud; hewas forgetting where we were."
The man advanced still closer.
"What's the matter with you, boy?"
Quite unconsciously the captain unbuttoned his overcoat, and his handstrayed to the pocket at the top.
"No--nothing," stammered Bertie.
"Nothing! I don't know what you call nothing! I should think you wasbeing murdered, hollering out like that. Why don't you go down to thecabin and go to sleep?"
The captain drew the man aside.
"My nephew is a little excitable at times," he said, and tapped hisforehead. "He is best away from the cabin. He is better alone up herein the fresh air with me."
The man, a weather-beaten sailor, with an unkempt grey beard, lookedhim straight in the face.
"Do you mean he's cracked?"
"Well, we don't call it by that name. He's excitable--not quitehimself at times. You had better pay no heed to him; he has one of hisfits on him to-night--the journey has excited him."
"Poor young feller!"
And the sailor turned to look at the boy. The captain slippedsomething into his hand. The man touched his hat and went away,looking at the piece of money as he went. And the man and the boy wereleft alone again.
Bertie, on the seat, clutched the rails as he had done before. Thecaptain, standing in front, looked down at him.
"There's more in you than meets the eye; though, considering youpretend to have a turn for humour, one would have thought you wouldhave been quicker to understand a joke. I say nothing of the noise youmade, but you were wise not to answer that fellow's impertinentquestion. Your presence of mind saved you from accidental contact withthe waters, but nothing could have saved you from my six-shooter. Youcan lie down again. You need have no fear of another accident; yourscreeching has made that fellow, and probably his comrades, tooinquisitive to make it worth one's while to venture that. But when itcomes to the question of letting your tongue wag too freely, nothingcan save you from my revolver--mark that. It will be then a case ofyou or I. If you have made up your mind to spoil me, I will spoil you,my little friend. I say you can lie down."
Bertie lay down; and again the captain resumed his pacing to and fro,keeping watch, as it were, over his young prisoner.
The boy fell asleep. The reaction which followed the short sharpstruggle beguiled him, and he slept. And oddly enough he slept thesleep of peace. And more than once the captain, pausing in hissolitary vigil, bent over the sleeping boy, and looked down at him.
"The young beggar's actually smiling."
And in fact a smile did flit across the sleeper's face. Perhaps he wasdreaming of his mother.
"Ran away for fun, did he? Yet the youngster isn't quite a fool. Pityit should be a case of he or I, but self-preservation is Nature'sfirst law! That was a headline in my copy-books unless I greatly err."
The captain lit a fresh cigar, and continued his patrol. What did hethink of? A hopeless past and a hopeless future? God forgive him!for such as he there is no forgiveness to be had from men. Thatself-preservation, which is Nature's first law, is a law which cutsboth ways. Honest men must destroy the Captain Loftuses, or they willbe themselves destroyed.
The morning dawned; the day returned to the world. Still the boy slepton. At last the captain woke him. He got up, as if bewildered, andrubbed his eyes.
"Well, nephew mine, are you going to sleep for ever? If so, I'm sorrythat I woke you. Jump up and come with me."
His "uncle" led the way into the cabin. They were preparing breakfast;the passengers were falling to. The night had been so tranquil thatnot one had suffered from sea-sickness, and appetite had come with themorning. A trained eye, looking at the fleecy clouds which werepeeping over the horizon, would have prophesied a change, and thatrough weather was at hand. But the day had dawned in splendour, and sofar the morning was as tranquil as the night had been. So thosepassengers who were going through to Jersey sat down with light heartsto breakfast.
The captain and Bertie joined them. That his "uncle" had no presentintention of starving him was plain, for he was allowed a hearty mealof whatever took his fancy.
And while they were at breakfast the _Ella_ was brought up alongsidethe jetty, St. Peter's Port, Guernsey.
A Hero of Romance Page 19