CHAPTER NINETEEN.
IN WHICH SMALLBONES IS SENT TO LOOK AFTER A POT OF BLACK PAINT.
We must now return to the cutter, which still remains at anchor off thePoint in Portsmouth harbour. It is a dark, murky, blowing day, withgusts of rain, and thick fog. Mr Vanslyperken is more than usuallydispleased, for, as he had to wait for the new boat which he haddemanded, he thought this a good opportunity of enlivening the bends ofthe Yungfrau with a little black paint--not before it was required, mostcertainly, for she was as rusty in appearance as if she had been builtof old iron. But paint fetched money; and as Mr Vanslyperken alwayssold his, it was like parting with so much of his own property, when heordered up the paint-pots and brushes. Now the operation of beautifyingthe Yungfrau had been commenced the day before, and the unexpectedchange in the weather during the night had washed off the greaterportion of the paint, and there was not only all the trouble, but allthe expense, to be incurred again. No wonder that Mr Vanslyperken wasin a bad humour--not only in a bad humour, but in the very worst ofhumours. He had made up his mind to go on shore to see his mother, andwas pacing the quarter-deck in his great coat, with his umbrella underhis arm, all ready to be unfurled as soon as he was on shore. He wasjust about to order his boat to be manned: Mr Vanslyperken looked up atthe weather--the fog was still thick, and the rain fell. You could noteven make out the houses on the Point. The wind had gone downconsiderably. Mr Vanslyperken looked over the gunwale--the damage waseven greater than he thought. He looked over the stern, there was thestage still hanging where the painters had been standing or sitting,and, what was too bad, there was a pot of paint, with the brush in it,half full of rain-water, which some negligent person had left there.Mr Vanslyperken turned forward to call somebody to take the paintbelow, but the decks were empty, and it was growing dark. A suddenthought, instigated no doubt by the devil, filled the brain of MrVanslyperken. It was a glorious, golden opportunity, not to be lost.He walked forward, and went down into his cabin again, where he foundSmallbones helping himself to biscuit, for the lad was hungry, as wellhe might be; but on this occasion Mr Vanslyperken took no notice.
"Smallbones," said he, "one of the men has left his paint-pot on thestage, under the stern: go and bring it in immediately."
"Yes, sir," replied Smallbones, surprised at the unusually quiet styleof his master's address to him.
Smallbones ran up the ladder, went aft, and slid down by the rope whichheld the plank used as a stage by the painters. Mr Vanslyperken seizedhis carving-knife, and following softly on deck, went aft. He took ahurried look forward--there was no one on deck. For a moment hehesitated at the crime: he observed the starboard rope shake, forSmallbones was just about to shin up again. The devil prevailed. MrVanslyperken sawed through the rope, heard the splash of the lad in thewater, and, frightened at his own guilt, ran down below, and gained hiscabin. There he seated himself, trembling like an aspen leaf. It wasthe first time that he had been a _murderer_. He was pale as ashes. Hefelt sick, and he staggered to his cupboard, poured out a tumbler ofscheedam, and drank it off at a draught. This recovered him, and heagain felt brave. He returned on deck, and ordered his boat to bemanned, which was presently done. Mr Vanslyperken would have given theworld to have gone aft, and to have looked over the stern, but he darednot; so, pushing the men into the boat, he slipped in, and was pulled onshore. Without giving any directions to the men he stepped out, andfelt a relief when he found himself on _terra firma_. He walked away asfast as he could--he felt that he could not walk fast enough--he wasanxious to arrive at his mother's. The rain fell fast, but he thoughtnot of his umbrella: it remained under his arm: and Mr Vanslyperken, asif he were chased by a fiend, pushed on through the fog and rain; hewanted to meet a congenial soul, one who would encourage, console him,ridicule his fears, and applaud the deed which he would just then havegiven the world to have recalled.
Where could he seek one more fitted to his purpose than his mother? Thedoor of the house where she lodged was common to many, and thereforeopened with a latch, he went in and up-stairs, tried the door of hismother's room, and found it fastened within. He knocked, heard thegrumbling of the old woman at her being obliged to rise from her chair:she opened the door, and Vanslyperken, as soon as he was in, slammed itto, and, exhausted with his emotions, fell back in a chair.
"Hey-day! and what's the matter now?" cried the old woman, in Dutch;"one would think that you had been waylaid, robbed, and almostmurdered."
"Murdered!" stammered Vanslyperken; "yes--it was murder."
"What was murder, my child?" replied the old woman reseating herself.
"Did I say murder, mother?" said Vanslyperken, wiping the blended rainand perspiration from his brow with a cotton handkerchief.
"Yes, you did, Cornelius Vanslyperken; not that I believe a craven likeyou would ever attempt such a thing."
"But I have, mother. I have done the deed," replied Vanslyperken.
"You have!" cried his mother; "then at last you have done something, andI shall respect you. Come, come, child, cheer up, and tell me all aboutit. There is a slight twinge the first time--but the second is nothing.Did you get gold? Heh, my son, plenty of gold?"
"Gold! no, no--I got nothing--indeed, I lost by it--lost a pot full ofblack paint--but never mind that. He's gone," replied Vanslyperken,recovering himself fast.
"Who is gone?"
"The lad, Smallbones."
"Pish!" replied the old woman, rocking her chair. "Ay, well, nevermind--it was for revenge, then--that's sweet--very sweet. Now,Cornelius, tell me all about it."
Vanslyperken, encouraged by the sympathy, if we may use the term, shownby his mother, narrated what he had done.
"Well, well, child, 'tis a beginning," replied the old woman, "and I'llnot call you craven again."
"I must go back," said Vanslyperken, starting up from his chair.
"Go, child, it is late--and dream over it. Vengeance is sweet, even insleep. I have had mine--and for years have I dwelt on it--and shall foryears to come. I shall not die yet--no, no."
Vanslyperken quitted the house; the weather had cleared up, the breezewas fresh and piercing, and the stars twinkled every now and then, asthe wild scud which flew across the heavens admitted them to view.Vanslyperken walked fast--he started at the least sound--he hurried byevery one whom he met, as if fearful to be recognised--he felt relievedwhen he had gained the streets of Portsmouth, and he at last arrived atthe Point; but there was no cutter's boat, for he had given no orders.He was therefore obliged to hire one to go on board. The old man whomhe engaged shoved into the stream; the tide was running in rapidly.
"A cold night, sir," observed the man.
"Yes," replied Vanslyperken, mechanically.
"And a strong tide, with the wind to back it. He'd have but a poorchance who fell overboard such a night as this. The strongest swimmer,without help, would be soon in eternity."
Vanslyperken shuddered. Where was Smallbones at this moment? and then,the mention of eternity!
"Silence, man, silence!" said Vanslyperken.
"Hope no offence, Mr Lieutenant," replied the man, who knew who hisfare was.
The boat pulled alongside of the Yungfrau, and Vanslyperken paid hisunusual fare, and stepped on the deck. He went down below, and had theprecaution to summon Smallbones to bring lights aft. The word waspassed along the lower deck, and Vanslyperken sat down in the dark,awaiting the report that Smallbones could not be found.
Snarleyyow went up to his master, and rubbed his cold nose against hishand, and then, for the first time, it occurred to Vanslyperken, that inhis hurry to leave the vessel he had left the dog to the mercy of hisenemies. During the time that Vanslyperken waited for the report of thelights, he passed over in his mind the untoward events which had takenplace--the loss of the widow's good-will, the loss of Corporal VanSpitter, who was adrift in the Zuyder Zee, the loss of five thousandpounds through the dog, and strange to say, what vexed him more, theloss
of the dog's eye; and when he thought of all these things, hisheart was elated, and he rejoiced in the death of Smallbones, and nolonger felt any compunction. But a light is coming aft, andVanslyperken is waiting the anticipated report. It is a solitarypurser's dip, as they are termed at sea, emitting but feeble rays; andVanslyperken's eyes are directed to the door of the cabin to see whocarries it. To his horror, his dismay, it is brought in by the drownedSmallbones, who, with a cadaverous, and, as he supposes, unearthly faceand vacant look, drawls out, "It's a-blowed out twice, sir, with thewind."
Vanslyperken started up, with his eyes glaring and fixed. There couldbe no mistake. It was the apparition of the murdered lad, and he fellback in a state of unconsciousness.
"You've a-got it this time," said Smallbones, chuckling as he bent overthe body of the lieutenant with his purser's dip, and perceived that hewas in a state of insensibility.
Had Mr Vanslyperken had the courage to look over the stern of thecutter when he re-ascended on the deck, he would have discoveredSmallbones hanging on by the rudder chains; for had the fog not been sothick, Mr Vanslyperken would have perceived that at the time that hecut Smallbones adrift it was slack water, and the cutter was lyingacross the harbour. Smallbones was not, therefore, carried away by thetide, but being a very fair swimmer, had gained the rudder chainswithout difficulty; but at the time that Smallbones was climbing upagain by the rope, he had perceived the blade of a carving knife workingat the rope, and was assured that Vanslyperken was attempting his life.When he gained the rudder chains, he held, on. At first he thought ofcalling for assistance; but hearing Vanslyperken order his boat to bemanned, the lad then resolved to wait a little longer, and allow hismaster to think that he was drowned. The result was as Smallbonesintended. As soon as the lad saw the boat was out of hearing he calledout most lustily, and was heard by those on board, and rescued from hiscold immersion. He answered no questions which were put to him till hehad changed his clothing and recovered himself, and then with greatprudence summoned a council, composed of Short, Coble, and Jemmy Ducks,to whom he narrated what had taken place. A long consultationsucceeded; and at last it was agreed that Smallbones should make hisappearance as he did, and future arrangements to be taken according tocircumstances.
As soon as Smallbones had ascertained the situation of his master, hewent forward and reported it to Dick Short, who with Coble came aft inthe cabin. Short looked at Vanslyperken.
"Conscience," said Short.
"And a damned bad un, too," replied Coble, hitching up his trousers."What's to be done, Short?"
"Nothing," replied Short.
"Just my idea," replied Coble; "let him come to if he pleases, or dieand be damned. Who cares?"
"Nobody," replied Short.
"My eyes, but he must have been frightened," said Smallbones; "for hehas left the key in the cupboard. I'll see what's in it for once andaway."
Snarleyyow, when Smallbones opened the cupboard, appeared to have anintuitive idea that he was trespassing, so he walked out growling fromunder the table: Short saluted him with a kick in the ribs, which tossedhim under the feet of Coble who gave him a second with his fisherman'sboots, and the dog howled, and ran out of the cabin. O, MrVanslyperken! see what your favourite was brought to, because you didnot come to.
At this time Smallbones had his nose in the stone jar of scheedam--theolfactory examination was favourable, so he put his mouth to it--thelabial essay still more so, so he took down a wine-glass, and, withoutany ceremony, filled a bumper, and handed it to Coble.
"We'll drink to his recovery," said Obadiah, tossing off the contents.
"Yes," replied Short, who waited till the glass was refilled, and didthe same.
"Here's bad luck to him in his own good stuff," said Smallbones, tossingoff a third glass, and, filling it again, he handed it to Coble.
"Here's reformation to him," said Coble, draining the glass again.
"Yes," replied Short, taking the replenished vessel.
"Here's damn to him and his dog for ever and ever, Amen," criedSmallbones, tippling off his second allowance.
"Who's there?" said Vanslyperken in a faint voice, opening his eyes witha vacant look.
Smallbones replaced the bottle in the cupboard, and replied, "It's onlySmallbones, sir, and the mates, come to help you."
"Smallbones!" said Vanslyperken, still wandering. "Smallbones isdrowned--and the whole pot of black paint."
"Conscience," said Short.
"Carving-knife," rejoined Coble.
"Carving-knife!" said Vanslyperken, raising himself up; "I never said aword about a carving-knife, did I? Who is it that I see? Short--andCoble--help me up. I've had a sad fall. Where's Smallbones? Is healive--really alive?"
"I believe as how I bees," replied Smallbones.
Mr Vanslyperken had now recovered his perfect senses. He had beenraised on a chair, and was anxious to be rid of intruders, so he toldShort and Coble that he would now do very well, and they might go; uponwhich, without saying a word, they both quitted the cabin.
Mr Vanslyperken collected himself--he wished to know how Smallbones hadbeen saved but still dared not broach the subject, as it would beadmitting his own guilt.
"What has happened, Smallbones?" said Vanslyperken "I still feel veryfaint."
"Take a glass of this," replied Smallbones, opening the cupboard, andbringing out the scheedam. He poured out a glass, which Vanslyperkendrank, and then observed, "How did you know what was in that cupboard,sirrah?"
"Because you called for it when you were in your fits," repliedSmallbones.
"Called for scheedam?"
"Yes, sir, and said you had lost the carving-knife."
"Did I?" replied Vanslyperken, afraid that he had committed himself. "Ihave been ill, very ill," continued he, putting his hand up to hisforehead. "By-the-bye, Smallbones, did you bring in that pot of paint?"said Vanslyperken adroitly.
"No, sir, I didn't, because I tumbled overboard, pot and all," repliedSmallbones.
"Tumbled overboard! why, I did not leave the ship till afterwards, and Iheard nothing about it."
"No, sir, how could you?" replied Smallbones, who was all prepared forthis explanation, "when the tide swept me past the saluting battery in amoment."
"Past the saluting battery!" exclaimed Vanslyperken; "why, how were yousaved?"
"Because, thanks to somebody, I be too light to sink. I went out to theNab buoy and a mile ayond it."
"The Nab buoy!" exclaimed Vanslyperken.
"Yes, and ayond it, afore the tide turned, and then I were swept backagain, and came into harbour again, just half an hour afore you comeaboard."
Mr Vanslyperken looked aghast; the lad must have had a charmed life.Nine miles, at least; out to sea, and nine miles back again.
"It's as true as I stand here, sir," continued Smallbones; "I never wereso cold in all my life, a-floating about like a bit of duck-weed withthe tide, this way and that way."
"As true as you stand here!" repeated Vanslyperken; "but do you standhere?" and he made a desperate grasp at the lad's arm to ascertainwhether he held substance or shadow.
"Can I do anything more, sir?" continued Smallbones; "for I should liketo turn in--I'm as cold as ice, even now."
"You may go," replied Vanslyperken, whose mind was again becomingconfused at what had passed. For some time the lieutenant sat in hischair, trying to recollect and reason; but it was in vain--the shocks ofthe day had been too great. He threw himself, dressed as he was, uponhis bed--never perceived the absence of his favourite--the candle wasallowed to burn itself to the socket, and Vanslyperken fell off into atrance-like sleep.