A waterman's boat was lying in the river just below Greenwich, thewaterman resting on his oars, while his fare, a small, perturbed-lookingman in seaman's attire, gazed expectantly up the river.
"There she is!" he cried suddenly, as a small schooner came into viewfrom behind a big steamer. "Take me alongside."
"Nice little thing she is too," said the waterman, watching the otherout of the corner of his eye as he bent to his oars. "Rides the waterlike a duck. Her cap'n knows a thing or two, I'll bet."
"He knows watermen's fares," replied the passenger coldly.
"Look out there!" cried a voice from the schooner, and the mate threw aline which the passenger skilfully caught.
The waterman ceased rowing, and, as his boat came alongside theschooner, held out his hand to his passenger, who had already commencedto scramble up the side, and demanded his fare. It was handed down tohim.
"It's all right, then," said the fare, as he stood on the deck andclosed his eyes to the painful language in which the waterman wasaddressing him. "Nobody been inquiring for me?"
"Not a soul," said the mate. "What's all the row about?"
"Well, you see, it's this way," said the master of the Frolic, droppinghis voice. "I've been taking a little too much notice of a little craftdown Battersea way--nice little thing, an' she thought I was a singleman, dy'e see?"
The mate sucked his teeth.
"She introduced me to her brother as a single man," continued theskipper. "He asked me when the banns was to be put up, an' I didn't liketo tell him I was a married man with a family."
"Why not?" asked the mate.
"He's a prize-fighter," said the other, in awe-inspiring tones; "'theBattersea Bruiser.' Consequently when he clapped me on the back, andasked me when the banns was to be, I only smiled."
"What did he do?" inquired the mate, who was becoming interested.
"Put 'em up," groaned the skipper, "an' we all went to church to hear'em. Talk o' people walking over your grave, George, it's nothing towhat I felt--nothing. I felt a hypocrite, almost. Somehow he found outabout me, and I've been hiding ever since I sent you that note. He tolda pal he was going to give me a licking, and come down to Fairhaven withus and make mischief between me and the missis."
"That 'ud be worse than the licking," said the mate sagely.
"Ah! and she'd believe him afore she would me, too, an' we've beenmarried seventeen years," said the skipper mournfully.
"Perhaps that's"--began the mate, and stopped suddenly.
"Perhaps what?" inquired the other, after waiting a reasonable time forhim to finish.
"H'm, I forgot what I was going to say," said the mate. "Funny, it'sgone now. Well, you're all right now. You'd intended this to be the lasttrip to London for some time."
"Yes, that's what made me a bit more loving than I should ha' been,"mused the skipper. "However, all's well that ends well. How did you geton about the cook? Did you ship one?"
"Yes, I've got one, but he's only signed as far as Fairhaven," repliedthe mate. "Fine strong chap he is. He's too good for a cook. I never sawa better built man in my life. It'll do your eyes good to look at him.Here, cook!"
At the summons a huge, close-cropped head was thrust out of the galley,and a man of beautiful muscular development stepped out before the eyesof the paralyzed skipper, and began to remove his coat.
"Ain't he a fine chap?" said the mate admiringly. "Show him your biceps,cook."
With a leer at the captain the cook complied. He then doubled his fists,and, ducking his head scientifically, danced all round the stupefiedmaster of the Frolic.
"Put your dooks up," he cried warningly. "I'm going to dot you!"
"What the deuce are you up to, cook?" demanded the mate, who had beenwatching his proceedings in speechless amazement.
"Cook!" said the person addressed, with majestic scorn. "I'm no cook;I'm Bill Simmons, the 'Battersea Bruiser,' an' I shipped on this erelittle tub all for your dear captin's sake. I'm going to put sich a 'edon 'im that when he wants to blow his nose he'll have to get alooking-glass to see where to go to. I'm going to give 'im a lickingevery day, and when we get to Fairhaven I'm going to foller 'im 'ome andtell his wife about 'im walking out with my sister."
"She walked me out," said the skipper, with dry lips.
"Put 'em up," vociferated the "Bruiser."
"Don't you touch me, my lad," said the skipper, dodging behind thewheel. "Go an' see about your work--go an' peel the taters."
"Wot!" roared the "Bruiser."
"You've shipped as cook aboard my craft," said the skipper impressively."If you lay a finger on me it's mutiny, and you'll get twelve months."
"That's right," said the mate, as the pugilist (who had once hadfourteen days for bruising, and still held it in wholesome remembrance)paused irresolute. "It's mutiny, and it'll also be my painful duty toget up the shotgun and blow the top of your ugly 'ed off."
"Would it be mutiny if I was to dot YOU one?" inquired the "Bruiser," ina voice husky with emotion, as he sidled up to the mate.
"It would," said the other hastily.
"Well, you're a nice lot," said the disgusted "Bruiser," "you and yourmutinies. Will any one of you have a go at me?"
There was no response from the crew, who had gathered round, and werewatching the proceedings with keen enjoyment.
"Or all of yer?" asked the "Bruiser," raising his eyebrows.
"I've got no quarrel with you, my lad," the boy remarked with dignity,as he caught the new cook's eye.
"Go and cook the dinner,'" said the skipper; "and look sharp about it. Idon't want to have to find fault with a young beginner like you; but Idon't have no shirkers aboard--understand that."
For one moment of terrible suspense the skipper's life hung in thebalance, then the "Bruiser," restraining his natural instincts by amighty effort, retreated, growling, to the galley.
The skipper's breath came more freely.
"He don't know your address, I s'pose," said the mate.
"No, but he'll soon find it out when we get ashore," replied the otherdolefully. "When I think that I've got to take that brute to my home tomake mischief I feel tempted to chuck him overboard almost."
"It is a temptation," agreed the mate loyally, closing his eyes to hischief's physical deficiencies. "I'll pass the word to the crew not tolet him know your address, anyhow."
The morning passed quietly, the skipper striving to look unconcerned asthe new cook grimly brought the dinner down to the cabin and set itbefore him. After toying with it a little while, the master of theFrolic dined off buttered biscuit.
It was a matter of much discomfort to the crew that the new cook tookhis duties very seriously, and prided himself on his cooking. He was,moreover, disposed to be inconveniently punctilious about the way inwhich his efforts were regarded. For the first day the crew ate insilence, but at dinner-time on the second the storm broke.
"What are yer looking at your vittles like that for?" inquired the"Bruiser" of Sam Dowse, as that able-bodied seaman sat with his plate inhis lap, eyeing it with much disfavour. "That ain't the way to look atyour food, after I've been perspiring away all the morning cooking it."
"Yes, you've cooked yourself instead of the meat," said Sam warmly."It's a shame to spoil good food like that; it's quite raw."
"You eat it!" said the "Bruiser" fiercely; "that's wot you've go to do.Eat it!"
For sole answer the indignant Sam threw a piece at him, and the rest ofthe crew, snatching up their dinners, hurriedly clambered into theirbunks and viewed the fray from a safe distance.
"Have you 'ad enough?" inquired the "Bruiser," addressing the head ofSam, which protruded from beneath his left arm.
"I 'ave," said Sam surlily.
"And you won't turn up your nose at good vittles any more?" inquired the"Bruiser" severely.
"I won't turn it up at anything," said Sam earnestly, as he tenderlyfelt the member in question.
"You're the only one as 'as complained," said the
"Bruiser." "You'redainty, that's wot you are. Look at the others--look how they're eatingtheirs!"
At this hint the others came out of their bunks and fell to, and the"Bruiser" became affable.
"It's wonderful wot I can turn my 'and to," he remarked pleasantly."Things come natural to me that other men have to learn. You 'd betterput a bit of raw beef on that eye o' yours, Sam."
The thoughtless Sam clapped on a piece from his plate, and it was onlyby the active intercession of the rest of the crew that the sensitivecook was prevented from inflicting more punishment.
From this time forth the "Bruiser" ruled the roost, and, his tempersoured by his trials, ruled it with a rod of iron. The crew, with theexception of Dowse, were small men getting into years, and quite unableto cope with him. His attitude with the skipper was dangerouslydeferential, and the latter was sorely perplexed to think of a way outof the mess in which he found himself.
"He means business, George," he said one day to the mate, as he saw the"Bruiser" watching him intently from the galley.
"He looks at you worse an' worse," was the mate's cheering reply. "Thecooking's spoiling what little temper he's got left as fast aspossible."
"It's the scandal I'm thinking of," groaned the skipper; "all becos' Ilike to be a bit pleasant to people."
"You mustn't look at the black side o' things," said the mate; "perhapsyou won't want to need to worry about that after he's hit you. I'dsooner be kicked by a horse myself. He was telling them down for'ard theother night that he killed a chap once."
The skipper turned green. "He ought to have been hung for it," he saidvehemently. "I wonder what juries think they're for in this country. IfI'd been on the jury I'd ha' had my way, if they'd starved me for amonth!"
"Look here!" said the mate suddenly; "I've got an idea. You go downbelow and I'll call him up and start rating him. When I'm in the thickof it you come and stick up for him."
"George," said the skipper, with glistening eyes, "you're a wonder. Layit on thick, and if he hits you I'll make it up to you in some way."
He went below, and the mate, after waiting for some time, leaned overthe wheel and shouted for the cook.
"What do you want?" growled the "Bruiser," as he thrust a visage all redand streaky with his work from the galley.
"Why the devil don't you wash them saucepans up?" demanded the mate,pointing to a row which stood on the deck. "Do you think we shipped youbecos we wanted a broken-nosed, tenth-rate prize-fighter to look at?"
"Tenth-rate!" roared the "Bruiser," coming out on to the deck.
"Don't you roar at your officer," said the mate sternly. "Your mannersis worse than your cooking. You'd better stay with us a few trips toimprove 'em."
The "Bruiser" turned purple, and shivered with impotent wrath.
"We get a parcel o' pot-house loafers aboard here," continued the mate,airily addressing the atmosphere, "and, blank my eyes! if they don'tthink they're here to be waited on. You'll want me to wash your face foryou next, and do all your other dirty work, you--"
"George!" said a sad, reproving voice.
The mate started dramatically as the skipper appeared at the companion,and stopped abruptly.
"For shame, George!" said the skipper. "I never expected to hear youtalk to anybody like that, especially to my friend Mr. Simmons."
"Your WOT? demanded the friend hotly.
"My friend," repeated the other gently; "and as to tenth-rateprize-fighters, George, the 'Battersea Bruiser' might be champion ofEngland, if he'd only take the trouble to train."
"Oh, you're always sticking up for him," said the artful mate.
"He deserves it," said the skipper warmly. "He's always run straight,'as Bill Simmons, and when I hear 'im being talked at like that, itmakes me go 'ot all over."
"Don't you take the trouble to go 'ot all over on my account," said the"Bruiser" politely.
"I can't help my feelings, Bill," said the skipper softly.
"And don't you call me Bill," roared the "Bruiser" with sudden ferocity."D'ye think I mind what you and your little tinpot crew say. You waittill we get ashore, my friend, and the mate too. Both of you wait!"
He turned his back on them and walked off to the galley, from which,with a view of giving them an object-lesson of an entertaining kind, hepresently emerged with a small sack of potatoes, which he slung from theboom and used as a punching ball, dealing blows which made the master ofthe Frolic sick with apprehension.
"It's no good," he said to the mate; "kindness is thrown away on thatman."
"Well, if he hits one, he's got to hit the lot," said the mate. "We'llall stand by you."
"I can't always have the crew follering me about," said the skipperdejectedly. "No, he'll wait his opportunity, and, after he's broke myhead, he'll go 'ome and break up my wife's 'art."
"She won't break 'er 'art," said the mate confidently. "She and you'llhave a rough time of it; p'raps it would be better for you if she didbreak it a bit, but she's not that sort of woman. Well, those of us aslive longest'll see the most."
For the remainder of that day the cook maintained a sort of unnaturalcalm. The Frolic rose and fell on the seas like a cork, and the"Bruiser" took short unpremeditated little runs about the deck, whichaggravated him exceedingly. Between the runs he folded his arms on theside, and languidly cursed the sea and all that belonged to it; andfinally, having lost all desire for food himself, went below and turnedin.
He stayed in his bunk the whole of the next day and night, awaking earlythe following morning to the pleasant fact that the motion had ceased,and that the sides and floor of the fo'c'sle were in the places wherepeople of regular habits would expect to find them. The other bunks wereempty, and, after a toilet hastened by a yearning for nourishment, heran up on deck.
Day had just broken, and he found to his surprise that the voyage wasover, and the schooner in a small harbour, lying alongside a stone quay.A few unloaded trucks stood on a railway line which ran from the harbourto the town clustered behind it, but there was no sign of work or life;the good people of the place evidently being comfortably in their beds,and in no hurry to quit them.
The "Bruiser," with a happy smile on his face, surveyed the scene,sniffing with joy the smell of the land as it came fresh and sweet fromthe hills at the back of the town. There was only one thing wanting tocomplete his happiness--the skipper.
"Where's the cap'n?" he demanded of Dowse, who was methodically coilinga line.
"Just gone 'ome," replied Dowse shortly.
In a great hurry the "Bruiser" sprang on to the side and stepped ashore,glancing keenly in every direction for his prey. There was no sign ofit, and he ran a little way up the road until he saw the approachingfigure of a man, from whom he hoped to obtain information. Then,happening to look back, he saw the masts of the schooner gliding by thequay, and, retracing his steps a little, perceived, to his intensesurprise, the figure of the skipper standing by the wheel.
"Ta, ta, cookie!" cried the skipper cheerily.
Angry and puzzled the "Bruiser" ran back to the edge of the quay, andstood owlishly regarding the schooner and the grinning faces of its crewas they hoisted the sails and slowly swung around with their bowpointing to the sea.
"Well, they ain't making a long stay, old man," said a voice at hiselbow, as the man for whom he had been waiting came up. "Why, they onlycame in ten minutes ago. What did they come in for, do you know?"
"They belong here," said the "Bruiser"; "but me and the skipper's hadwords, and I'm waiting for 'im."
"That craft don't belong here," said the stranger, as he eyed thereceding Frolic.
"Yes, it does," said the "Bruiser."
"I tell you it don't," said the other. "I ought to know."
"Look here, my friend," said the "Bruiser" grimly, "don't contradict me.That's the Frolic of Fairhaven."
"Very likely," said the man. "I don't know where she's from, but she'snot from here."
"Why," said the "Bruiser," and his voice shook, "ain't this F
airhaven?"
"Lord love you, no!" said the stranger; "not by a couple o' hundredmiles it ain't. Wot put that idea into your silly fat head?"
The frantic "Bruiser" raised his fist at the description, but at thatmoment the crew of the Frolic, which was just getting clear of theharbour, hung over the stern and gave three hearty cheers. The strangerwas of a friendly and excitable disposition, and, his evil star being inthe ascendant that morning, he took off his hat and cheered wildly back.Immediately afterwards he obtained unasked the post of whipping-boy tothe master of the Frolic, and entered upon his new duties at once.
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