“They may be reminded of me, my dear Mrs. O’Donagough, without knowing me,” was the reply; and as it was spoken with one of those peculiar smiles which she often saw on the face of her husband, and always with the feeling that they meant more than she could understand, she turned again her undivided attention to the packing, and by dint of her great exertion and perseverance, found herself on the wharf from whence they were to take their departure, with her husband on one side, her daughter on the other, and not a single packet either missing or forgotten.
CHAPTER VI.
NOTWITHSTANDING that the wind was favourable, the vessel seaworthy, the crew civil, and, better than all, the land towards which they were making such rapid way, the very land of promise and of hope, Mrs. O’Donagough and Miss O’Donagough too, were, to use a poet’s phrase, “very, very sick.”’ That they should be very, very cross too, was, on the whole, quite excusable, because it is certain that under the influence of the first feeling, everything in heaven and on earth, and the water under the earth, is sure to generate the last.
Mr. Allen O’Donagough, who was totally unconscious of any sensation of the kind, was very civil to his wife, and attentive to his daughter for about half an hour after the malady seized them; but he then became weary of the repetition of attitude, and so on, which was quite unavoidable on the part of the ladies, but certainly uninteresting, to say the least of it, to everybody else; and he therefore took himself off to the very furthest extremity of the ship from that occupied by the suffering womankind, and there comfortably seated on a chicken-coop, with a cigar in his mouth, he dozed in luxury, half meditating, and half dreaming of Crockford’s.
Poor Mrs. O’Donagough was greatly to be pitied during nearly the whole of the voyage. It was so provoking to see the pickles and the sweetmeats, over the preparation and the packing of which she had toiled, gradually melting before her eyes, without her having ever been able, for a single moment, to venture them within her month! Miss Patty, however, got much better before she had been long at sea, and might soon be seen climbing up upon the taffrail, partly to receive the favouring breeze upon her face, and partly, perhaps, for the purpose of making some of the young sailors come and tell her that she must take care not to tumble overboard, and let the fishes pick out her pretty eyes.
Among the crew of the Atalanta (which was the name of the fine merchant-ship that bore the Allen O’Donagoughs across the ocean) was a lad apparently about nineteen or twenty years of age, who very soon attracted the particular attention of Miss Patty; nay, even Mrs. Allen O’Donagough, in her intervals of convalescence, more than once honoured him by a stare, that decidedly spoke of admiration.
This youth’s universal appellative was “Jack,” and, to judge by the multitude of occasions in every day, upon which the name resounded from stem to stern, he was a person of very considerable importance in the manoeuvring of the vessel. This circumstance taken singly, spoke well for the skill and nautical superiority of the boy; yet there were other circumstances which might have led those who watched him closely to doubt whether he were indeed so very accomplished a sailor. For, in the first place, nobody ever saw him go aloft; and though, as we have said, he was continually called upon by name, more particularly by the sailors than the officers of the ship, whenever they were in want of a hand, it not unfrequently happened, when he obeyed the summons and set to work upon the business assigned him, a roar of laughter from his companions accompanied and followed his exertions. This, however, might have proceeded solely from his great popularity among them, and from the very particular pleasure they all appeared to take in his society.
He was unquestionably one of those happy mortals, blessed by nature with the patent privilege of propitiating the good will of all on whom he turned his bright blue eye. There was no resisting its gay playful glance, nor the smile either, by which he displayed the most perfect set of teeth ever set in a mortal head, almost every time he was spoken to.
It is a long voyage from New South Wales to England; and even those who are best in health, and gayest in spirits, can hardly fail to experience that degree of weariness, which makes every person, and every occurrence within reach of observation, important. Mr. Allen O’Donagough himself, though fully enjoying those best reliefs to tedium, the breakfasts, dinners, and suppers furnished by the careful preparations of his less happy spouse, so far shared this universal feeling as to amuse himself occasionally by joining with Jack in his good-humoured efforts to amuse Patty.
No sooner was the breakfast hour passed, than the young lady, let the weather be what it would, was sure to be seen climbing the cabin-stairs, in order to get a game at ship-billiards with Jack. Nor was Jack slow in his efforts to meet her wishes. No sooner did he perceive her bright eyes roving about the deck in search of him, than he sung out to any of the crew who happened to be within reach, “Avast there, Tom!” or Dick, or Harry, or whomever else it might chance to be, “Avast there! and hand us a bit of chalk for the young lady.” And a bit of chalk, to mark the series of circles that the game required, was never long waited for; nay, so eager were the good seamen of the Atalanta to oblige either the young lady or their blithe comrade, that few among them failed, when thus called upon to use the chalk as well as furnish it; and the ring within ring was often fairly drawn upon the deck, each marked with its respective number, and the circular slices of wood that served as bowls, placed ready beside them, before Jack had concluded his first parley with Miss Patty, or answered half the questions respecting wind, weather, the ship’s progress, and the flying fish, which she always came ready primed to ask.
As soon as the game was fairly begun, Mr. Allen O’Donagough might generally be seen approaching, cigar in mouth, to watch the progress of it. Had he carefully marked the expression of his young daughter’s countenance as he drew near, he might perhaps have perceived that she would have been quite as well pleased to keep Jack and the bowls to herself; but probably he did not mark it at all, and accordingly obtruded himself without scruple upon their game, generally proposing to set himself and his daughter against Jack, who was a great adept, and often appearing to take the most lively interest in the result.
By means of this constant practice, Mr. Allen O’Donagough himself acquired by degrees very considerable skill in the game, and at length was apt to leave poor Patty out of it altogether, till the amusement was evidently become as important to his daily existence as to hers.
It was not long ere Mr. Allen O’Donagough’s habit of bringing all his intellect to bear upon every game, whether of skill or chance, in which he was engaged, placed him fully on an equality with Jack in that of ship-billiards; and then he began greatly to long for a bet to excite anew the interest. A feeling, pretty nearly allied to shame, enabled him for a few days to resist the temptation lie felt to challenge Jack for a penny a game; but it lasted no longer, and setting all considerations of his own superior rank aside, he fairly addressed the lad in the language of perfect equality:—” I say, Jack! what do you say, my boy, to our trying our luck for a penny a game?”
“With all my heart, sir, if you will,” was the reply, and to it they set, notwithstanding the openly-expressed displeasure of Patty, who was fain to console herself by standing very close to her favourite when it was her father’s turn to throw, and by romping with him a little now and then for the recovery of the bowl, when both stooped together to pick it up.
Mr. Allen O’Donagough was unquestionably much too rich a man to make the pennies for which he now played, of importance to him; nevertheless, habit, and a sort of instinctive ardour for success, even where success mattered not, led him to exert himself so effectually, that he speedily became the better player of the two. This appeared to pique the young sailor, and he likewise was frequently seen practising the game alone. At these times no one ever heard “Jack” called for, nor did any of the necessary duties of his profession appear in the least degree to interfere with his amusement. Poor sick Mrs. O’Donagough, whose greatest comfo
rt was to have a parcel of coats and cloaks placed on the deck for her to lie upon, frequently amused herself by the hour together in watching both the practice and the game also, till at last it struck her that Jack, who, making allowance for his youth, and his wearing neither favoris or mustaches, she considered as decidedly the handsomest person she had ever seen — it struck her, I say, that Jack must either be the very idlest fellow that ever took service on shipboard; or, that he was not the mere common sailor he appeared.
No sooner had this last conjecture crossed her brain, than her curiosity became roused, and exerting herself vigorously, she rose from her recumbent posture, and dragged her languid limbs to the spot where Captain Wilkins, the commander of the vessel, stood leaning listlessly over the ship’s side.
Mrs. Allen O’Donagough leant over the ship’s side too. “Good morning to you, captain,” said she, turning up her veil that she might both hear and see him more at her ease. “How are we getting on to-day?”
“Capital well, ma’am,” he replied, “eight knots an hour, steady.”
“That’s good hearing, Captain Wilkins, for one that makes such a bad sailor as I do. And talking of sailors, do tell me something about that young man that they call Jack. I never saw such an odd, irregular young fellow in my life. Sometimes to hear the sailors calling him, first here, then there, as violently as if the whole safety of the ship depended on his coming, one might think he was just the best seaman on board. Then at other times he will do nothing but amuse himself for hours and hours together with tossing along that bit of wood, as he is doing now. Do turn round and look at him, Captain Wilkins, and tell me if that’s the way for a sailor to earn Ms wages?”
The captain turned Ms head for a moment to look in the direction Mrs. O’Donagough indicated, and then replacing himself in his former position, replied carelessly —
“It is only because we go on so well, ma’am. Sailors have but little to do in fair weather.”
“Humph!” quoth Mrs. Allen O’Donagough, seemingly but little satisfied by the explanation; but replacing her folded arms upon the side of the vessel she contemplated the floating nautili, shining with their violet and silver rigging in the sun, as fixedly as if she were really thinking of them; but it was no such thing; her thoughts had never swerved for a moment from Jack. His handsome face, and his tall slight figure, which, spite of his canvas trowsers and checked shirt, had an air, a look, that seemed so — she was quite at a loss for a word to express what she meant, but had she been blessed with her friend Miss Morrison’s familiarity with the tongues, she would unquestionably have added “destengay.” And then all the sailors, though they called him Jack so familiarly, doing just what he bid them with the chalk every day, and more than all, Ms flying full gallop to handle a rope now and then, just as if it was done for fun, though as to scouring the decks, or climbing up those horrid dangerous ladders of rope for any other sailor work, that was anywise disagreeable, he no more seemed to have a notion of doing it than her daughter Martha. All this was puzzling in the extreme, and understand it she would, or else know the reason why.
“But I say, captain,” she began again, but turning her head a little at the same moment, she perceived that, most uncourteously, Captain Wilkins had left her side, and was no longer hr sight.
“Vulgar brute!” murmured Mrs. O’Donagough in great indignation. “But if he is off, because he won’t tell me what I want to know, I’ll be a match for Mm yet.”
On first screwing her courage to this enterprise of further inquiry, she turned her eyes towards the head of the vessel as the point where she was at once the most certain of encountering some of the men, and of not encountering their captain. But, poor soul! the undertaking was greatly beyond her strength, and after making a few tottering steps in the direction she wished to take, she was fain to stop short, and seat herself.
But though her wall before the mast was given up, her inquisitorial project was not; and as soon as she had rested herself sufficiently once more to give her poor reeling brain fair play, she bethought her of a scheme worth a dozen of the last, and forthwith proceeded to put it in execution. No manoeuvring was required for this, in any degree at variance with her feeble condition, for it was only necessary that she should confess herself to be as ill as she really felt, and call for the steward to help her down stairs to her berth. Black Billy came at her call, and with his usual ready civility sustained the weight of the lady’s heavy arm till he had safely landed her in the cabin.
Black Billy was an excellent steward, and to all the multitudinous qualifications essentially necessary to deserving this character, he added a charm, without which all the rest would have been imperfect — for Black Billy was a most accomplished gossip.
“Thank you, Billy! thank you!” sighed the qualmish lady, as soon as she had placed her uncomfortable person on the black horsehair sofa. “But don’t go away yet, Billy! I want to give you half a dollar, because you are always so good natured to my daughter and me.”
“Tanky, mam,” returned Billy, his eyes flashing at sight of the dearly-loved coin. “Madam want itty drop som’at goody goody?”
“Why, I shouldn’t care, Billy, if I did have half a glass of very, very weak cold rum-and-water.”
Billy was rattling amongst his bottles and glasses in a moment; and presently, returning from the mysterious hole in which all the matériel for his important office was lodged, he presented the goody goody draught to Mrs. O’Donagough, with an air that would not have disgraced the chef of Verey’s establishment.
“Thank you, Billy, thank you!” reiterated the kind-spoken lady, adding, after a sip or two, “It is very comfortable indeed! But don’t go, Billy; you shall have the glass in one moment, and then there will be no danger of its getting broke.” Billy obediently stationed himself before her, and respectfully waited, plate in hand, to receive her glass.
But Mrs. O’Donagough was in no humour to despatch its reviving contents hastily. “You make the best toddy I ever tasted, Billy. I am sure you are quite a treasure to the ship. How long have you been on board her, Billy?”
“Dis is de fust woyage, please, mam.”
“You seem to have a nice civil crew on board, Billy.”
“Yes, please, mam; all but nasty filthy negur cook; and we must put up wid he, mam, ‘cause you know he be but a beastly negur.”
“That Jack, as you call him, seems a good natured lad, with always a merry word for everybody. Do you know anything about him, Billy?” resumed the lady.
“Oh! es, mam,” replied Billy, with a very broad grin, “I knows all about em.”
“Do you, Billy?” replied Mrs. O’Donagough, eagerly; “I am very glad of it, for I want to hear all about him. Who is he, Billy? And what is he? Something out of the common way, I think; ins’t he now, Billy?”
This was said in the playful coaxing tone, generally used by people who pique themselves upon their powers of cross-examination.
Billy upon this lowered his voice to a very confidential tone, as he replied; “Now beant he a rum un, mam? He be de oldest boy ebber come aboard, as couldn’t go aloft.”
“But why can he not go aloft, Billy? that looks as if he had never been bred as a sailor; doesn’t it?”
Billy shook his head, but said nothing.
“Now do tell me, Billy, you must know,” continued Mrs. O’Donagough, “why did he come aboard dressed like a sailor?”
“Jack, stupy lubber, wery stupy lubber, mam,” said Billy, looking extremely sagacious.
“Yes, yes, Billy, so he is perhaps, and something besides that into the bargain.”
“Es, mam, es,” replied Billy, putting his finger to his nose, “so he bees.”
Mrs. Allen O’Donagough now thought the moment was come ; and throwing herself forward on her seat, and raising her eager eyes to the face of the negro, she exclaimed, “What? dear Billy! for God’s sake tell me what?”
A very comic expression took possession of the shining face that was bent do
wn to meet hers: but, though the fellow grinned from ear to ear, it was with a tone of great solemnity that he replied, “That bees a secret, mam!”
“Poh! fiddle-de-de for a secret, Billy, among friends; tell me what it is, there’s a good fellow.”
Billy grinned again, shut up his eyes very close for about half a minute, and then said, “Him bees a reg’lar crocodile.”
“A crocodile, you black fool!” cried Mrs. O’Donagough, losing all patience, “if you think to treat a white lady passenger in that manner, and not get flogged for it, you are altogether out. If you don’t tell me this moment all you know about that boy who they call Jack, I’ll inform the captain that your behaviour is too impertinent to be borne, and we’ll soon see what comes of that, master Billy.”
Billy tried to look dismal, but his ivory teeth would make themselves seen in spite of him. However, he very soberly took up the glass which the lady had just before set down empty, and very decorously named the number of pennies she was to be pleased to pay for the same. This she knew was inevitable, such being the regulation on board the good ship Atalanta. Fortunately for her feelings, at the moment Mrs. O’Donagough chanced to have the exact sum ready in her pocket, in large copper coin, and drawing the pieces out, she raised her arm, and, with all the strength she had, flung them, with a tolerably steady aim, in the face of Billy.
Insult to a negro, if the tortured flesh quiver not beneath it, is never very deeply felt; so Billy only shook his woolly sconce as if it had been exposed to a shower of hail, and without any symptom of ill humour, picked up the coin and retired.
Mrs. O’Donagough felt very ill, very ill indeed. A violent fit of anger is one of the worst accidents that can occur in a case of sea-sickness. It was quite as much as the poor lady could do to get to the state corner (for the best arranged merchant-ships can hardly be said to have state cabins) in which her berth was constructed; and having reached it, there she remained, quietly enough, for at least three hours; the latter part of which time, however, was, happily for her, relieved by a tolerably sound nap — the greatest blessing that kind Heaven can send to a sufferer in her condition.
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