Jack Harkaway and His Son's Escape from the Brigands of Greece
CHAPTER XLI.
YOUNG JACK'S CONFIDENCES--HOW TWO INNOCENT CONSPIRATORSREPENTED--A CHANCE SHOT STRIKES HOME.
"Harry," said young Jack, as they walked up and down the deck arm inarm, "I must tell you something that has been upon my mind for dayspast."
Harry Girdwood turned round. Young Jack's serious manner impressed him.
"What is it, Jack?"
"I know you'll laugh," began Jack.
"Do you, Jack?" returned Harry Girdwood, promptly; "that being thecase, tell me at once. I like to laugh, as you know."
"Well, Harry, it hasn't made me laugh. I was lolling half drowsily overthe hatchway there, the other evening, when I suppose I dropped offasleep, and I dreamt of Hunston. I dreamt that I was going through allthat ugly scene again, and while in the thick of the dream, somethingwoke me."
"Yes."
"What do you think it was?"
"Can't say."
"Hunston's voice, moaning, groaning with pain apparently."
Harry Girdwood opened his eyes in wonder at this singular speech.
"What are you talking about?"
"Nonsense, rubbish; is it not? So I thought since. But you know thatsort of dream when you wake up with the vivid effect of your vision sostrongly upon you, that the dream-drama appears to continue afteryou're awake?"
"Yes."
"Well, that is exactly what happened to me. I heard Hunston when I wasawake."
There was something strangely impressive in his manner as he said this,which caught Harry Girdwood's attention in spite of himself.
"Fancy," he said, with an assumption of indifference which he was farfrom feeling; "fancy, my dear Jack."
"Of course," answered young Jack; "but very strange."
"Not exactly strange, either, every thing considered, after all we havegone through. Why, Jack, you will hardly believe me when I tell youthat I scarcely sleep without dreaming of Hunston. And what is therewonderful in that, after all that has taken place? It was enough toshake the strongest nerves, to startle the bravest man that everlived."
"You allude to the attempted execution of ourselves?" said young Jack.
"Yes; and in spite of that brave brigand girl's assurances, there wasgreat danger when we stood upon the brink of our grave with a firingparty aiming at us."
"I felt a good deal of confidence in her," said Jack, "but I couldn'thelp thinking that an accident in her calculations might happen veryeasily."
"That's true. Supposing one of the bullets had been left in?"
"Why, then one of us would have been food for worms by now, unless thewolves or bears had rooted us up out of our graves and made dinner offus; but I haven't told you all about my vision yet, Harry."
"Did you dream again?"
"No."
"What more have you, then, to tell? Out with it. What else was it?"
"The moans I heard grew more distinct while I listened, and I followedthe sounds--"
"In your sleep?"
"No, awake. I followed the sounds to the hold."
"Well?"
"They were plainer heard there. I pushed my way over the barrels andboxes, and nosed down in all the corners with my bull's eye lantern,when suddenly I heard a half-suppressed cry, a violent gasp rather, asif someone had too suddenly found himself on the edge of a precipice,or had seen a ghost."
"Well, well."
"Well, at that very moment a hand was placed upon my arm."
"Yes."
"I started back and drew my dirk, and then I found my self attacking--"
"Mole?"
"No. Joe Basalt."
Harry Girdwood burst out laughing at this.
"So it was Joe Basalt that was hiding and having a lark with you allthe while?"
"I didn't say so," replied young Jack, thoughtfully.
"Why, then, what, in the name of all that's wonderful, do you think itcould have been?"
"I don't know, but Joe Basalt chaffed me. He swore I was walking in mysleep; but I have come back upon my old opinion since I have thoughtthe job over."
"You mean that you actually believe there is someone concealed in thehold?"
"Is--or was. Now, you watch Joe Basalt, Harry, and see if there is notsome thing very strange in his manner."
"I will, if you like, but--good-morning, Tiller."
This was to Jack Tiller, who came up to them touching his forelock.
"Good-morning, Master Jack--morning, Master Harry. We've got a fishingparty on, gentlemen, and thought as you might like to jine us."
"Who's going?"
"Me and Sam Mason, Tommy Shipwright and Bill Adams, Joe Basalt and oldHiggy--only that lot among the common folk," added he, with a grin.
"And who among the superior class?" asked young Jack, laughingly.
"Mr. Mole."
"What, Mr. Mole! Why, what on earth is he going for?"
"That's exactly the p'int of it, young gentlemen,"
"How so?"
"We're going a-fishing with something new-fangled which Mr. Mole hasinwented."
The two boys looked at each other and grinned.
"Larks are on, Jack," said Harry Girdwood. "I'm in it, for one."
"And I too."
"That's your sort," cried Joe Basalt. "Mr. Harvey's going, too, and Mr.Jefferson; now I go to Mr. Harkaway and ask his consent."
And Joe left them singing--
"Avast!" cries Jack, "do you suppose I ain't a man my dooty knows? For liberty afore we goes To ax the skipper I propose."
And the well-disciplined sailor went to Harkaway's cabin and broachedthe question.
"All right, Basalt," said Harkaway; "only look sharp after the younggentlemen; you know what boys they are to get into mischief."
"All right, your honour; trust me."
"I do, Joe Basalt," responded Harkaway; "I do, for I know that therewas never a straighter or truer man ever trod a deck than you are."
"Come, I say, your honour," remonstrated Joe Basalt, modestly, "draw itmild."
"No deceit about you, I know it; nothing underhand about Joe Basalt."
A sudden thought flashed through the sailor's head, and it brought up avery unpleasant reminder.
With it came a flush to his bronzed face.
He touched his forelock respectfully to Harkaway and ran up stairs.
As he went he muttered to himself--
"I felt like a miserable swab!" he muttered; "a d--d, deceitful sonof a sea-cook--that's what you are, Joe Basalt, I wish I'd never hadnothing to do with that precious stowaway."